


A Pride At War

by BecauseBraime



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon through 4x07, F/M, Forced Marriage, Mutual Pining, Oberyn Defeats the Mountain, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Torture, Tywin Doesn't Die On the Shitter, not cersei friendly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:41:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 42
Words: 117,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BecauseBraime/pseuds/BecauseBraime
Summary: Oberyn kills the Mountain and the charges against Tyrion are cleared. Cersei sets her sights on a new innocent to blame. Brienne of Tarth. Tywin offers Jaime a deal to save Brienne from facing trial.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Sansa Stark, Jaime Lannister & Tyrion Lannister, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark (minor)
Comments: 826
Kudos: 878





	1. A Fighting Chance

“Elia Martell! Say her name! Who gave you the order!? Who gave you the order!?”

Jaime smiled and looked to Tyrion. _Gods. He’ll survive this yet_. Looking down the row excitedly, Jaime observed Tywin and Cersei scowling. _How can they not be pleased? How can they want their own kin, son and brother, dead?_

“You raped her! Your murdered her! You killed her children! And now I kill you!” With jarring precision, Oberyn plunged his spear into the Mountain’s face.

The angle of the spear pushed through his nasal passage and out through his skull. Brain matter and blood splattered across the ground.

A sigh of relief pushed past Jaime’s lips. His eyes locked on Tyrion’s and the brothers exchanged pleased smiles.

“How the fuck can you sit there and smile? You disgust me more now than when I look upon your fucking stump.” Cersie spat the words as she pushed past Jaime to exit towards the castle.

Begrudgingly, Tywin stood from his seat and spoke commandingly. “The Gods have spoken. Tyrion Lannister is innocent in the crime of murder against King Joffrey Baratheon, first of his name.”

Glancing sideways, Jaime saw Tywin approach and he quickly averted his eyes. Tywin grunted in irritation as he moved past Jaime. When Cersei and Tywin were well out of sight, Jaime moved quickly from his seat to descend into the arena.

On approach, Jaime dropped to his knee and drew Tyrion into a tight embrace. “Thank the Gods!”

Tyrion choked back a sob and wrapped his arms tightly around Jaime. The sound of approaching footsteps drew Jaime back as he looked to see Oberyn moving towards Ellia.

The guards moved to remove the shackles from Tyrion’s wrists and Jaime took the opportunity to approach the Viper. “Prince Oberyn. I can’t begin to thank you enough for championing my brother. I found myself unable to lend a hand.” Jaime lifted his false hand as a smirk spread across his face.

With a light laugh, Oberyn glanced at Jaime before turning his attention back to his bloodied spear. “After what the Mountain did to my sister, the death he received is a mercy compared to what I could have done.” Jaime swallowed thickly as he looked to the grotesque scene in the middle of the arena.

 _I must remember never to piss this man off_. Tyrion approached Jaime’s side, rubbing his wrists as the reddened lines from the chains began to fade. “Prince Oberyn. I owe you a debt which I fear can never be repaid. You have my sincere thanks.”

Oberyn smiled more easily at Tyrion. “All of Westeros knows you are innocent of this crime. The Mountain however was guilty of everything.”

As the Viper turned to lock eyes with Ellaria, the pair came together in a passionate kiss. Oberyn’s hands roamed her back and pulled her close. With an uncomfortable glance at Tyrion, the Lannister brothers retreated quickly, having little desire to meet the ‘little Viper’.

Making their way back to the castle, Jaime placed a firm hand on Tyrion’s shoulder. “You’re a free man now. What is the first order of business? The brothels? Some wine?”

Tyrion snorted and batted Jaime’s stomach with his hand. “Mayhap I’ll find Pod and Bronn. Convince them to join me for both. I don’t imagine you would want in on that?” With an inquisitive glance, Tyrion eyed his brother; his brows raising suggestively.

Jaime huffed a laugh and shook his head. _Wine, maybe. Whores, no._ Suddenly, Jaime stopped walking. _Shit. Pod._ “I… I sent Pod off already. I assure you, he is well protected, but I didn’t want to risk waiting until after the trial by combat.”

Tyrion’s face fell slightly, but he nodded in understanding. “Have you sent him off to meet with Addam?”

Jaime felt his ears redden slightly as his mind wandered to Brienne for what felt the millionth time since she left. _Gods what is wrong with me? Its as though I’m ten and three all over again_. “Uh… not really. I sent him off with Lady Brienne.”

Tyrion raised a curious brow and studied Jaime. Jaime knew the look and hated it. Since childhood, Tyrion could read Jaime like a book. “Ah yes, your lady _friend_. I fear we didn’t get much time to speak about her since your return… what with false accusations against me and all.”

Jaime’s eyes widened in fear as he considered knowledge of Pod’s departure with Brienne getting out. _Seven hells. No one can know I sent her off_. Jaime looked around and tugged Tyrion to the side of the walkway. With a lowered voice, Jaime spoke urgently. “Tyrion, you mustn’t tell anyone this! I can’t have anyone going after them.”

Tyrion’s eyes studied him again. “Of course. You have my word.” With a slight nod, Jaime righted himself and continued walking. The afternoon sun beat down on Jaime’s skin, producing small droplets of sweat against Jaime’s brow.

The walked the rest of the way to the keep in silence. Earlier mention of Brienne again sent Jaime’s mind wandering. _Is she safe? Is she having any luck?_ Sapphire eyes swam in his mind as Jaime shook the vision of Brienne from his head.

As they rounded the corner of the keep and entered the family quarters, Jaime heard Cersei’s voice from down the hallway. She spoke angrily and venom dripped in her tone. “He was my son! I have the right to charge another! I want that fucking cow from Tarth dead, father! I know she did this.”

Jaime’s heart stopped at the words. His steps faltered as he looked down the hallway. Cersei was in Tywin’s study. Glancing to Tyrion, Jaime saw the worry in his brother’s eyes. “It seems dear brother, you need not worry about my saying anything.”

Without so much as a word to Tyrion, Jaime jogged down the hallway and barged into the study. At his uninvited presence, Cersei rounded on him.

“You! You did this! You brought that beast into this city! Our enemy’s sworn sword. How could you be so stupid!? She killed Joff and then you secreted her away! I know what you did. I know about the armor. The sword. That fucking boy who followed Tyrion around like a dog. You let the enemy in and look what happened!”

Jaime looked to Tywin, his mouth gaping like a fish. “Lady Brienne did _not_ kill Joffrey! She saved my life in the Riverlands when she had no reason to. She brought me home to our family. What reason would she have to poison Joffrey!?”

“Qyburn told me of the bear pit. I heard the whispers from the men. Kingslayer’s Whore! That’s what is wrong with you men. You think with your cocks!”

Standing from his desk, Tywin walked to stand between the bickering twins. “Enough! Cersei, get out. I’ll send for you later.”

“We are not finished here. I want that bitch…”

“I said enough!” Tywin’s tone brokered no argument. With a final look of disgust at Jaime, Cersei exited the room and slammed the door.

Tywin turned to appraise Jaime; his eyes boring into his oldest son. Unnerved by the gaze, Jaime moved to exit, but Tywin’s words halted his progress. “I did not dismiss you. Sit. Now.”

Without waiting to ensure Jaime moved in the direction he wanted, Tywin rounded the desk and took his seat. The head of House Lannister looked out the window and exhaled audibly as Jaime sat across from him. _Why must he always make me feel like an incompetent child?_

“Where is your sword?”

Jaime felt the color drain from his face as he strung together a lie. “You said it yourself. A sword like that is wasted on a cripple such as me. It’s stored away in…”

“Do not lie to me boy!” Tywin’s face was a storm and Jaime was caught in its epicenter. Leaning back in his chair as if to avoid the daggers flying from Tywin’s eyes, Jaime cleared his throat and looked down at his hands; one flesh and one gold. Tywin huffed a sarcastic laugh before speaking.

“Cersei thinks she’s so fucking clever. She thinks she is the only one with spies. I know the smith you went to for the custom armor. You paid double to ensure the secrecy in it. Little fucking sunbursts and lions on it, you idiot! Next time you need a secret kept, pay quadruple! You practically put a cloak on the woman! I even gave you the opportunity to wed her. When you bargained for Tyrion’s freedom and offered to take on your duty as heir, did you think I didn’t know then!?”

Jaime’s eyes snapped to Tywin’s; his face slack in shock. “Oh, don’t look at me like I figured out some ancient valyrian code. You embarrassed yourself mooning after that woman the entire time she was here. I had my sources follow you during your little excursions in the garden. I know the arrangement you had upon returning to King’s Landing. You meant to send the woman away your own goodsister!”

Jaime’s heart began to race, and his breathing labored. The room felt as though it was closing in on him. The temperature was stifling, and Jaime wiped the sweat from his brow. “I swore an oath to Lady Catelyn…”

“Lady Catelyn is dead! With that death, any oaths you made to her are void.” With a sigh that was more a growl than puff of air, Tywin considered Jaime.

“Now, I am going to ask you a question. Your answer determines this woman’s fate.” Jaime looked to his father as Tywin leaned forward on the table. Tywin’s eyes seemed to stare into the very depths of Jaime’s soul. Fidgeting in the seat, Jaime took a deep breath.

“I need to know what this woman is to you. Is she merely a comrade formed during your hardships faced traveling the Riverlands or do you love this woman?”

The question felt like a slap to the face. Based on Tywin’s earlier comments, it was both expected and unexpected.

Ironically, the very question had plagued Jaime for some time.

At first, the question came to Jaime after his confession in the bath at Harrenhal. As he lay awake that night, having recovered from his faint, Jaime wondered what had led him to confess his deepest secrets. To bear his very soul to the woman charged as his captor. His enemy turned something more. Protector? Comrade? Friend?

After leaving Brienne at Harrenhal, Jaime felt drawn back. He couldn’t leave her knowing she was in danger. When she later asked why he came back, he wondered again. He knew that what he felt for Brienne was more than comradery. Staring at the claw marks on her neck, something tugged at his heart that he couldn’t name or rather… that he was afraid to name.

When they walked the gardens of King’s Landing, he wondered it again. The sun’s rays caught her eyes. They looked even brighter and warmer than when they first met. He found himself struggling for words before his mouth spat nonsense. ‘Are you sure we’re not related.’

That night, Jaime wondered what had gotten into him. He couldn’t get Brienne out of his head. _I don’t have many friends. Tyrion. Addam. Daven. Mayhap it is that longing for friendship and nothing more. Someone who sees me as I am and accepts me; flaws and all._ Jaime knew it was a lie. His heart didn’t flutter around his other friends. His breathing didn’t quicken. His words didn’t fumble.

When Jaime sent her away with Pod, dressed in the custom, blue armor with his sword at her hip; he knew. _She is taking my heart with her. I love her. I love her and I can never have her_.

Looking back at Tywin now, Jaime sighed and met his father’s eyes. “Love.”

A smile tugged at Tywin’s lips. “Good. That should make this easier. Tommen will release you from the Kingsguard. You will go and find this woman, bring her back to King’s Landing, and wed her. Then you will leave for the Rock and do your duty to our House. If she refuses to wed you, she will be charged with the murder of Joffrey Baratheon. Rest assured, the evidence against her will be strong.”


	2. Twins No More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei reacts to news of Jaime's situation. She comes up with a plan of her own.

Cersei raged as she threw her wine cup at the door to her room. She had just returned from the throne room where she witnessed Tommen remove Jaime from the Kingsguard. Jaime was being sent by the crown to retrieve his _betrothed_ and return the cow to the city.

Tommen had declared to the court that Lady Brienne had been sent from the city by Ser Jaime to find Sansa Stark and return her to King’s Landing. Tommen proclaimed that the culprit of King Joffrey’s death was still at large.

_I knew it. The fucking cow saw to it that Jaime lost more than his hand. She took his mind in the Riverlands._

When Cersei had stood in the throne room, taking in all that was being said, she reflected on the nonchalant expressions of the other attendee. She had been the only one shocked by Tommen’s decree.

_They’re all in on this. They all mean to take Jaime away from me. My twin. My other half. I’ll make them all pay. I’ll make Jaime see reason and come back to me, even if is no longer my perfect, mirror image._

Stalking down the hall towards her father’s study, Cersei barged in and observed Tywin speaking with Qyburn. _What is he doing in here?_ As Tywin’s s eyes flitted to Cersei, irritation flashed over his features.

“I must speak with you at once, father!” Ignoring her plea, Tywin turned back to Qyburn and continued speaking in hushed tones. The rat like, former maester nodded in understanding and bowed deeply to Tywin.

Once dismissed, Qyburn moved passed Cersei and offered a slight bow of the head. Something about the man unnerved Cersei. _Yet another miserable creature that come home with Jaime_.

“The next time you storm into my office unannounced, I will see you married off to old Walder himself.” Tywin spoke the words as though an afterthought. He moved to take his seat behind the desk and immediately pulled forth a parchment and quill.

Dipping his quill into the jar of ink, Tywin began to write and offered no additional acknowledgement of Cersei’s presence. “I said that I need to speak with you.”

“Then speak and be quick about it. I have much to do.” Tywin continued to concentrate on the missive he was writing rather than grace Cersei with his undivided attention. With a huff of irritation, Cersei moved to sit opposite him at the desk.

“You can’t possibly mean to have Jaime marry that beast. Are you even certain she can produce heirs?”

With an exacerbated sigh, Tywin spoke while continuing to focus on his missive. “I fail to see how this matter concerns you.”

“I will not have that cow sully the title of Lady of the Rock! She is a murderer and sworn to the enemy!”

Dropping his quill, Tywin finally looked up at Cersei and leaned back in his chair. “Where is Tarth?”

At the question and Tywin’s casual tone, Cersei’s brows furrowed. _Who gives a shit where Tarth is!?_ “I don’t need a geography lessons, father. I hardly see what this has to do with…”

“The Stormlands. Which kingdom is currently in open rebellion?” Cersei sank in her seat. She knew where he was going with this and it made her blood boil.

“So you mean to whore Jaime out to bring the Stormlands to heel?”

“I mean to bring them to heel for the mess that _you_ have made. Those foul rumors of you and your brother have put us in a precarious position. There are rumors that Stannis is amassing an army of sellswords and means to press his nephew’s claim again. Jaime will wed the Tarth girl. Her father is the most powerful vassal in the Stormlands. He will help us remove Stannis and then he will be made liege, which effectively gives us control of the Stormlands via Lady Brienne.”

Cersei’s lips curled in disgust. “Jaime and I are not pawns in your game. You can’t force him to marry that thing!”

“What makes you think I’m _forcing_ him?” Tywin gave her a challenging glare as his brow raised.

_No. Jaime would never. My words yesterday were a challenge to his loyalty. He would not leave me for another. Especially not something as pitiful as that cow._

When Cersei made no move to respond, Tywin huffed and looked back to his missive. “Now on the matter regarding you, I am rethinking Loras.” At the words, Cersei’s spirits lifted. A spark of hope blossomed in her chest. Sitting upright in her chair, she waited for her father to continue.

“We will have the east and west united through Jaime and the Tarth girl. Tyrion brings us the north once we find the Stark girl. Tommen will marry Margery and secure us the Reach. Myrcella will marry Prince Trystane and secure us Dorne. You will bring us a more secure alliance in the Riverlands. One of Walder’s sons should do just fine. We will only need another babe or two to secure the area.”

Cersei’s eyes widened in horror. “I will do no such thing! I am not some broodmare for you to whore out to the next kingdom you find yourself in need of alliance with!”

“You are my daughter and you will do as I say. Now get out.” Tywin folded the missive and dripped the wax onto the parchment. Stamping his seal into the rapidly cooling wax, he set it to the side and pulled forth another parchment.

Standing from her seat, Cersei glared at Tywin before turning on heel and slamming the door behind her. She moved quickly towards Jaime’s room. _I’ll prove his loyalty to me. He will always be mine. We will find a way out of this._

Cersei loosened the top of her corset slightly, exposing just enough of her buxom figure. _Surely, he didn’t lose his cock too_.

As she approached Jaime’s door, Cersei listened to ensure he was alone. She pressed her ear against the wooden door and listened. Cersei could hear Jaime’s footsteps inside, but no words were being exchanged. Without a knock, Cersei slipped inside as she normally would.

As she shut the door behind her, Cersei’s eyes lifted to meet Jaime’s. _Still the same eyes despite his other cracking features. My mirror is only slightly distorted._

Swaying her hips, Cersei moved towards Jaime. She kept her eyes locked on his. “Brother. I see father has his hand in this. He means to punish your behavior in secreting out the cow, by forcing you to wed that beast.” Cersei cupped Jaime’s jaw as she reached him.

“What do you want, Cers?” Jaime looked back to his bed. A pile of clothing for travel lay stacked by his satchel. _He can’t possibly mean to go through with this._

“I came to see you off. To remind you of what will be here, awaiting your return.” Cersei lowered her hand to Jaime’s breeches, tugging at the laces. “Remember the night of my wedding to Robert? It seems now, the roles will be reversed. I will come to you when the cow is put to bed in the stables with the horses.”

Jaime narrowed his eyes but did not halt her efforts. His voice echoed off the walls of the meager room. “And who will warm your bed this time while you await my return? Lancel or Kettleblack? Mayhap you’ll find someone new to take to bed.”

Cersei grunted in irritation. _That little creature has been telling secrets to Jaime. I’ll deal with him later_.

Reaching her hand into Jaime’s breeches, Cersei pursed her lips and feigned innocence. “They meant nothing. I merely needed things of them that you weren’t here to help me with. They meant nothing more to me than that drunk Robert.”

Cersei began to stroke Jaime’s cock as her mouth moved to his, but Jaime averted her lips. His cock did not stir in her hand as it usually did. Pushing her away, Jaime huffed in irritation. “Don’t touch me.”

As Jaime turned his back to her, Cersei felt a mix of shock and rage course through her veins. “Tell me brother, do you now prefer your women mooing on their hands and knees. From the rumors, perhaps it is you on your hands and knees. I heard she…”

Before she could finish speaking, Jaime rounded on her. His hand came to Cersei’s throat and he backed her up towards the wall; his breeches hanging loosely at his hips. “Shut your mouth. You will stay away from me. You will stay away from Lady Brienne.”

Jaime leaned against her, his face flush with rage. Cersei felt a slight panic course through her body. She had seen Jaime in such a state before, but his fury was never directed at her.

All their life, Jaime was Cersei’s weapon to carry out her bidding. He was her golden lion, willing to destroy anyone who would dare get in her way. Now as his hand rested on her throat and he snarled at her, realization struck Cersei. _Valonqar_.

“It’s you.” At her words, Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly in confusion. He pushed off her and stalked back towards his bed.

Cersei felt her fists clench at her side as she appraised him. _The best parts of him are truly dead along with the loss of his hand. The only part of him worth a damn._

Snarling, Cersei spat at Jaime. “You are dead to me! Do you hear me!? If you leave the city to go to that beast, I swear by the Seven I will never forgive you.”

Cersei stood seething by the wall; rage etched on her face. For his part, Jaime only shook his head and threw his clothing into the satchel.

When Jaime failed to turn to her or reply, Cersei left the room in a swirl of skirts. Stalking down the hallway, she considered her options. _The men in my family are worthless. They will destroy this family and ruin me in the process. I am queen! I will bow to no man. I will play whore to no one._

Cersei’s feet took her to the gardens. There was one person she needed to find. One person she knew would give her the leverage she needed.

She walked for some time, scanning the area for the individual she sought. The sun was shining brightly and the temperature warmer than most days in the capital of late. Cersei’s heavy dress weighed on her and caused beads of sweat to pool on her backside.

Eventually, she saw him. He stood in the training yard, talking to one of the Kingsguard. Fortunately, his whore was nowhere in sight.

Approaching the man, Cersei placed a false smile on her face. Her honey tones called out to the man. “Prince Oberyn. I hope you are well.”

At her words, the Viper glanced at her suspiciously before his lips pulled into a small smile. “Yes, your Grace. I am quite well indeed. What brings you to the yards?”

With a dismissive wave to the guard, Cersei looped her arm through Oberyn’s. “Walk with me. There are things I wish to discuss with you while you still grace us with your presence in the capital.” Oberyn was tall, but nowhere near as tall as Jaime. His skin was more appealing than Jaime’s, but his eyes lacked the daring charisma of her twin.

They walked for some time until they reached a more secluded area. Oberyn took a few steps to look out over the Blackwater. “So, what can I do for you? I’ve been in the capital for some time and yet this is the first you seek me out.”

Cersei raised a brow and moved to his side. “Your work on the Mountain was most impressive. It certainly can’t be said that you lack ability to remove those who have wronged you.”

Oberyn chuckled lightly and looked to Cersei from the corner of his eyes. Without waiting for his response, Cersei continued. “You and I both know who gave the order to Ser Gregor. I can help you get to him.”

Oberyn turned to face her fully. “What you speak of is treason.”

With a small shrug. Cersei held her gaze on the Blackwater. “He means to whore me and my children out to further his power. He means to rule Dorne through Trystane and Myrcella. I think we can help each other solve a shared problem.”


	3. Brothers United

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion and Jaime come up with a plan as Jaime prepares to leave.

“So, let me get this straight. Cersei barged into your room and tried to suck you off…”

“That is not what I said!” Jaime interjected, but Tyrion waved dismissively and kept rambling. The wine sloshed from his cup as he continued his dramatized retelling of the tale Jaime had just shared.

“… but you told her to fuck off from your life forever and recommended she go spread her legs to Lancel or Kettleblack of fucking moonboy instead. You’re now going to scour the entirety of Westeros to find your lady knight who is currently scouring the entirety of Westeros for _my_ wife.”

Jaime nodded despite disagreeing with the specifics of Tyrion’s version of events. A wide smile spread across his younger brother’s face.

Tyrion giddily recounted the final part of the tale. His voice dripped with mirth. “Oh, and the best part. When you find her, father has demanded you marry her, or she will be tried for the very crime that I was found innocent of.”

“Yes!” Jaime grunted in irritation at the delay Tyrion was causing him.

“Oh, this is delicious. I’m coming with you.” Tyrion hopped down from his seat and moved to the chest at the foot of his bed. Pushing open the lid, he began rapidly throwing clothing into a satchel.

“What!? No. Tyrion, you’re not coming with me.”

Tyrion paused to look back at Jaime. A wide smile pulled at his lips. “Jaime, I have waited my entire life to see you free from Cersei. I am not missing this for the world! Besides, I can’t stay here! You saw it yourself. Father and Cersei want me dead. The moment you leave, they’ll start plotting again.”

Jaime sighed in frustration. He knew Tyrion’s words to be true. It wasn’t safe for him in King’s Landing.

“And how are we to explain your accompanying me to father? You aren’t exactly a soldier. What purpose would you serve?”

At Jaime’s words, Tyrion’s hand flew to his heart in mock offense. “You wound me! We both know that I’m the brains of operation. You just be your usual handsome self when we find the lady. Leave everything else to me.”

Jaime scoffed at his words. “I spent more time with her in the past year than I have you. I’m certain I can carry on a conversation with her without your aid.”

Halting his effort to shove clothing into the satchel, Tyrion looked back and rolled his eyes. “I’m not talking about handling conversation with her. What is your plan? Where will you look for her first? What if you need to lie or deceive to find clues to her whereabouts? What if you need to barter?”

Jaime considered Tyrion’s words. His brows raised slightly in resignation. “Point well made. I hadn’t considered all that.”

Tyrion huffed a laugh and moved to Jaime, placing a warm hand on his forearm. “You never do, Jaime. You charge in with everything you have when in love. You rarely have a plan or consider the consequences.”

 _Love. First father and now Tyrion_. Jaime stammered and tried to refute the words. “I said nothing of love! I’ll admit that we’ve… bonded. I want to see her to safety and make sure she is out of Cersei’s reach. You know what Cersei would do to her if….”

With a small laugh, Tyrion interrupted him; his tone dripped with sarcasm. “Alright Jaime. Whatever you want to call it then. I want to help. Besides, she is looking for my wife. It is only fair that I join. That’s what we’ll tell father. We know Brienne is looking for Sansa. I’m the only Lannister who Sansa trusts. She will never go with you if I’m not there.”

Jaime took a deep breath looked to Tyrion’s bag. “I mean to leave today. Would you be ready?”

Keeping his eyes on Tyrion, Jaime watched as a wide smile pulled at his brother’s lips. “Oh brother, I am more than ready to leave this shit hole behind. Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but… do you plan on taking any men? I know you’ve been training with Bronn, but I don’t imagine you’re proficient with the left yet. I may have survived some battles, but I am far from a fighter. I don’t imagine that two notorious Lannister brothers on the road together will receive a warm welcome.”

“I meant to go alone. I want to move quickly and bringing men just slows me down. I wrote to Addam and asked him to form a blockade at the Neck. He knows to look out for Brienne or Sansa. At least Brienne couldn’t be that far north already.”

Considering his words, Tyrion nodded. “Good idea in using Addam’s contingent to block the Neck. Lets just hope your lady _friend_ doesn’t kill them all trying to get through. If she is as good as you say she is, they’ll have their work cut out for them.”

A soft smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. His mind flashed to when she took out three Stark guards within a single heartbeat. _Gods. Mayhap that is when I fell for her._

Looking back to Tyrion, Jaime realized that his younger had been scrutinizing him again. Tyrion blinked and shook his head. Moving to the table, he picked up his cup of wine and drank more before turning to Jaime and patting his knee.

“Gods. It’s all over your face.” Tyrion sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’ll bring Bronn. The Lannister armor will just attract unwanted attention. When we find Brienne, we can always meet with Addam and the men to ensure adequate protection.”

Turning back to Jaime, Tyrion cocked a brow. “Once we have Brienne, it will be fine to move at a slower pace. That will buy you more time that you’ll need.”

“Time? Time for what?” Jaime’s brows knitted in confusion as he watched Tyrion’s mind work into overdrive.

“Time to woo her of course! Do you even know how to court a woman?” Tyrion looked at Jaime expectantly. _Court her?_

“I just planned to tell her father’s demands.”

At Jaime’s words, Tyrion guffawed. “Oh, how romantic! Yes, hello Lady Brienne. We have to get married now because my father says we must, or you’ll die when found guilty in a rigged trial.” Rolling his eyes, Tyrion looked to Jaime before offering a more sympathetic approach.

“The woman knows you as a man dedicated entirely to your sister. A man who fucked that sister and no other for most of his life. You put three bastards in her belly. Those children caused a war to break out across all of Westeros! Does Brienne even know how you feel about her? She certainly won’t know you’re done with Cersei. I imagine the lady will think you do this as little more than a favor.”

Jaime’s mind immediately went to all the horrible things he had said to Brienne when they first met. _Is that a woman? Where did you find this beast? You’re even uglier in the daylight. Have you known many men? Women? Horses? You’re a maid I take it._ Jaime cringed inwardly.

“Stop thinking so loudly. I don’t even want to know what those faces mean. I saw the woman when she was hear. I can already here you needling her with your typical _charm_. I imagine it was a rough initial meeting? Poor thing probably is used to it.”

Jaime clenched his fist and glared at Tyrion. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean!?”

With a deep sigh, Tyrion sat down and looked at Jaime. “I mean no offense. Like me, I imagine there are certain physical characteristics that make for a difficult first impression. It matters not what anyone else thinks about her except you. That said, I also know you. You were probably still dreaming of little more than Cersei when you were released into Brienne’s care. Were you cruel to Brienne? When you’re wounded and desperate, you lash out in the worst ways, Jaime.”

Tilting his head back, Jaime closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I said horrible things to her.”

Nodding expectantly, Tyrion tapped his wine glass. The sound grated on Jaime, but he kept his mouth shut; instead taking the opportunity to think about what he would say to Brienne. Tyrion had the right of it. Brienne would likely believe this was yet another mercy. Aid for a friend.

Tyrion took a deep breath and crossed his arm; locking eyes with Jaime. “How bad is it? What did you say?” Jaime shared his earliest comments and cringed as he watched Tyrion’s reaction.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Hanging his head in shame, Jaime ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. You know how I just talk myself into deeper levels of the seven hells! Fuck. It’s how I lost my damn hand. I couldn’t just keep my mouth shut. Take the victory for what it was.”

At Jaime’s words, Tyrion perked up in his seat. “Wait, what? What victory? You said they took your hand because you flaunted the Lannister wealth and name.”

 _Shit_. Jaime’s ears reddened slightly as he tried to backtrack. “No, that’s what I meant. I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” With a disbelieving look, Tyrion pressed Jaime on the matter.

“What victory? I will not shut up until you tell me. Or I could just ask Lady Brienne when we find her.” With a mischievous smile, Tyrion raised a brow and sipped his wine. He waited patiently as Jaime found the words.

“They were going to rape her. I lied and told them that Tarth was called the Sapphire Isles for its abundance of the very gem. I suggested that Lord Tarth would pay Brienne’s wait in sapphires to get her back… unbesmirched. _Then_ when they brought her back unharmed, I didn’t shut up.”

A heavy silence descended upon the room and Jaime fidgeted in his seat. He had been fearful to tell his family the truth of his maiming; worried it would bring unfair blame on Brienne.

When Tyrion next spoke, his voice was low and filled with awe. “There is hope for you yet, brother. Any other chivalrous deeds that might make up for your errant mouth?”

In a teasing tone, Jaime shrugged. “I did save her from a bear pit. Mayhap that will help.” Tyrion’s eyes widened at Jaime’s words. “Brother, I think it is best you start from the beginning. Spare no detail. We’ll have a plan yet.”

Some time later, Jaime concluded the tale. As requested, he left out no details. As uncertain as he was, he told the truth of Aerys, but swore Tyrion to secrecy. Strangely, he felt a slight betrayal against Brienne for sharing the truth with anyone other than her.

She carried his secret as she carried his heart. He didn’t want to share it with anyone else, but Jaime wondered if Brienne’s knowing the truth of Aerys might make him a more agreeable marriage prospect. Jaime wanted to know Tyrion’s thoughts. _Does knowing my worst deed is actually my finest help my chances of winning her over? Brienne is so damn honorable; surely it might help?_

Jaime ended his history with Brienne by detailing the final day in which he sent her off with Pod, custom armor, and his sword. Tyrion was never one at a loss for words, so Jaime did not initially know what to make of his brother’s silence.

“Is it bad? Have I fucked it up too much then?” Jaime furrowed his brows in worry as he awaited Tyrion’s assessment.

“Jaime, do you truly want to marry this woman? What I mean is that, if father didn’t force your hand, would you want this?” Tyrion’s tone lacked its usual mirth. He studied Jaime’s face and awaited his response.

With a slow, steady nod of confirmation, Jaime watched as Tyrion’s face broke into a wide smile. “Then I will be most excited to meet my future goodsister. If she doesn’t already love you, I swear to the Gods I will never drink a drop of wine for the rest of my days.”

That afternoon, Tyrion, Bronn, and Jaime stood in the courtyard preparing their horses to leave. Tyrion felt it best to offer Bronn few details other than the knowledge that they were to find Brienne and return her to King’s Landing. Knowing the sellsword as he did, Tyrion thought sharing Jaime’s true feeling for the woman would yield little more than a headache.

They had effectively convinced Tywin to allow Tyrion to join the search for Brienne. Loathe as Tywin was to admit it, he knew Tyrion’s words to be true. Sansa would not trust Jaime. If by some miracle Brienne did have Sansa, Jaime knew that Brienne wouldn’t force Sansa to do anything she didn’t feel comfortable with, including returning to King’s Landing.

They needed Tyrion’s help, but between the brothers they had an understanding. Sansa would be secreted somewhere safe until Brienne and Jaime could return to take her north. The capital wasn’t safe for Sansa, so they would lie and tell Tywin that Brienne hadn’t found the girl.

Bronn and Tyrion mounted their horses as the group readied to depart. Jaime was about to mount his horse, but Tywin and Cersei came into the courtyard and halted his progress.

“Jaime. Remember what we discussed and don’t try anything stupid. Remember, I will know if you defy me in any way.” Tywin’s eyes studied Jaime’s face as the words settled over the group.

“I understand. She can’t have gotten far. We’ll be back soon.” Jaime spoke quickly, hoping to satisfy the matter, but Tywin only moved closer.

“And another thing. If she has Sansa, you better ensure that girl is brought back. I don’t care what you have to do to her.” Before Jaime could respond, Tywin turned and marched back into the castle.

Watching his father retreat, Jaime noticed Cersei glaring at him. His sister stood rooted in place; disdain writ across her face. After an awkward silence, Cersei strode forward.

At his side, Tyrion groaned and urged his horse forward. “Catch up with us when you’re done dealing with _that_.”

Bronn and Tyrion took off down the path from the courtyard and Jaime groaned inwardly. Refusing to acknowledge Cersei, Jaime returned to fastening his satchel. “That cow isn’t good enough to be lady of the Rock.”

Jaime rolled his eyes and sighed but refused to look at Cersei. As he was about to mount his horse, Cersei moved quickly to his side. Her nails dug into his elbow and she tugged his arm. Turning to meet her face, Jaime saw Cersei step closer, but not so close that it would draw suspicion from any staff milling about.

“She is not your other half. _I am_. You are my mirror image. We are the same person. Two halves of a whole.”

Jaime felt his blood boil and he gritted his teeth. “You think we’re the same person? We’re not! Everything horrible I’ve done in this life, I’ve done for you. Everything good I’ve done in this life, I’ve done for others. I’ve done for Brienne. I lost my hand, for Brienne. I road back north towards Harrenhal after Roose freed me, for Brienne. I jumped in a bear pit unarmed, for Brienne. I armored and armed our family’s perceived enemy; secreted her out of King’s Landing, for Brienne.”

Cersei’s eyes exploded in a cloud of wildfire. Without awaiting a response or looking back, Jaime mounted his horse and took off to catch up with Tyrion and Bronn.


	4. Smoke Signals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime, Bronn, and Tyrion make their way north looking for Brienne and Pod.

Jaime groaned from atop his horse as Bronn continued his off-pitch version of ‘The Bear and the Maiden Fair’. _Of all the fucking songs._ They had been moving up the Kingsroad for almost a week, searching for any sign of Brienne and Pod.

When Jaime saw Brienne and Pod off from King’s Landing, they had moved out north along the same path. Jaime was convinced they would have remained on course. _If I was trying to find a little girl from the North who just wanted to go home, I would head north too._

In Jaime’s mind, there were only two logical places that Sansa might go. The Vale and the North. While the Boltons held Winterfell, it was likely there were sufficient Stark sympathizers to keep the girl safe.

With Addam’s blockade at the Neck, they would ride to the men to ensure neither Brienne nor Sansa had tried to pass through. Once confirming they hadn’t moved north by land, Jaime, Bronn, and Tyrion would make their way back south, searching in all directions.

The sway of the horse threatened to rock Jaime to sleep and the only thing keeping him awake was Bronn’s godsawful singing. Jaime hadn’t slept well in days as nightmares plagued his attempts at rest. He had nightmares of Cersei getting to Brienne and torturing her. _Why the fuck did I instigate Cersei? Tyrion had the right of it. I never think._

“We should stop at an inn tonight. My ass hurts from all this riding and I haven’t had a proper sleep in days. This trip has been most un-Lannnister. Why must we sleep on the ground when we have coin?” Tyrion griped at Jaime’s side.

A loud guffaw pushed past Bronn’s lips as he stopped singing and looked to the brothers. “Bunch of spoiled cunts ya are. I shoulda asked for more coin for this shit. Two princesses gripin’ about sleepin’ on the ground and ridin’ horses all day long.”

Looking to Bronn with an incredulous stare, Jaime huffed in disbelief. “I haven’t complained once. How could I possibly get a word in with your constant singing? Do you ever shut up?”

“Fine. Ya don’t like me singin’? I’ll stop.” Bronn shrugged and looked back out at the road before them. It seemed to stretch on for an eternity, but as they neared the Crossroads Inn, Jaime knew they weren’t that far off from the Neck.

 _Thank the Gods. No more bloody singing_. As if reading his mind, Bronn began whistling songs instead. It became a game of who would crack first. Jaime or Tyrion. It was Tyrion who begged for mercy first.

“I need to stop. We’ve been riding since the sun came up.” At Tyrion’s words, Jaime looked to his little brother and felt a pang of sympathy. Riding was never easy for Tyrion. It put a lot of pressure on his joints and without a proper saddle, it could be quite painful to sit like that for long stretches. Of course, a saddle customized for Tyrion had not been available at the keep. A kindness Tywin would never afford.

“We’ll break for a quick meal and then get back on the road. We could stop at the Crossroads tonight.” A sigh of relief escaped Tyrion’s lips at Jaime’s suggestions. Tyrion was excited for the physical relief of a proper bed, but Jaime knew Bronn would be more excited at the prospect of whores milling about the inn.

As they made camp, Jaime volunteered to find firewood to cook the game Bronn went off to catch. Tyrion refilled their canteens in a nearby stream and ensured the horses were hydrated before they set out again.

Jaime walked a ways into the woods; enjoying the silence and feel of the shade against his skin. The long section of the Kingsroad they found themselves on to that point, was not well protected from the sun’s oppressive rays. The overhang from nearby trees fell just short of the road and Jaime could feel his neck cooking in the sun.

Picking up several pieces of dry wood, Jaime looked around to get his bearings. That is when he saw the smoke. A small campfire sent a small column of smoke into the sky just off in the distance. The outline of a figure hunched over the fire was one that Jaime would recognize anywhere. _Brienne_.

Dropping his collection of kindling, Jaime jogged towards the camp and called out to Brienne. Brienne’s spine straightened at the sound of her name and she reached for Oathkeeper. Slowing his pace as he neared the edge of the camp, Jaime gasped when Brienne turned to face him.

Her face was badly bruised, and she appeared to strain as she lifted the valyrian steel towards him. “Ser Jaime?” Brienne looked as shocked to see him as he was to see her. Moving quickly to her, Jaime watched as Brienne sheathed her sword and appraised him.

Her eyes were questioning, but her body relaxed considerably upon recognizing the source of her name. He wanted nothing more than to hug her and soothe her wounds, but he also wanted to keep his head atop his shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” She asked the question in a suspicious tone. Brienne’s eyes darted around the woods as though looking for an unknown assailant or army. It was then that Jaime noticed all the dried blood on her neck and dipping just below the edge of her armor.

“Brienne, are you alright? Gods, you look like you fought the Mountain himself.”

Brienne snorted at the words and raised a brow while continuing to look around. Her words came out a whisper. Had Jaime not been standing so close, he would have missed them. “No… just the other brother.”

“You fought the Hound!? Where is he!?” Jaime unsheathed his sword and stepped forward protectively; his own eyes darting around the area.

“Probably dead at the bottom of a cliff somewhere.” Jaime turned to meet Brienne’s eyes and was shocked to see nothing but truth. Had Jaime not fought Brienne himself, he hardly would have believed such a statement. “You beat the Hound?”

Brienne’s eyes snapped back to him as though woken from a trance. With a slight shrug, Brienne nodded in confirmation. “Wasn’t a terribly clean fight.” Her attitude seemed indifferent, but there was an underlying irritation in her tone. _How can she be so nonchalant about this!?_

“He had Arya and wouldn’t release her to me. They thought I worked for the Lannisters.” Tapping her finger to Oathkeeper, realization hit Jaime. His father’s words came to mind and he cringed. _You practically put a cloak on the woman._

“You found Arya? Gods. I just assumed the girl was dead.” Jaime huffed a laugh, but Brienne offered little more than a returning glare. “Why would you think that?”

With a slight shrug of his shoulders, Jaime looked around the area again. “Is she with Pod? Where are they?” Brienne sighed loudly at his question and ran a hand through her hair. “She ran off while I fought the Hound. Pod lost track of her. We looked all over, but she doesn’t seem to want to be found.”

As if summoned by mere mention alone, Pod returned with a pile of wood in his arms. The boy looked tired, but healthy. At the sight of Jaime, Pod’s face broke into a wide smile. “Ser Jaime! What are you doing here? What happened with Lord Tyrion’s trial? Is he alive?”

Jaime raised his hand in greeting as Pod approached. “Hello Podrick. Yes, he won the trial by combat. He’s just over that hill there.” Pointing back in the direction of their camp, Brienne’s brows furrowed again. “What did you say you were doing here?”

“Looking for you actually. Why don’t you come back to our camp and I’ll explain? You look as though you’ve been through the Seven Hells and back again. Where are your horses?”

With a huff of annoyance, Brienne looked to Pod. “In addition to not knowing how to ride a horse, Pod here doesn’t know how to hobble them either. We’ve been on foot for near two days now.” _Well, I said he was a good lad. I didn’t make promises about his capabilities as a squire_.

With a light huff of laughter, Jaime’s attention immediately went back to Brienne’s physical state. “Is anything broken?”

Looking at the armor adorning her body, Brienne shrugged slightly. “I don’t believe so. Clasps are all there.” Jaime’s own eyes dropped to the armor. It had taken some blows but looked to be intact.

Jaime rolled his eyes at her words. Looking at her, he raised a brow. “I meant you. Not the armor.”

Brienne looked perplexed by his question, but then searched for an answer. “I don’t think so. I haven’t removed the armor to find out. It seems to be holding me together quite nicely.” Jaime watched Pod grimace from behind her. His eyes appraised her before looking down to the forest floor.

“Well, follow me and we’ll get you both taken care of.” Jaime scanned the area quickly but didn’t see any of their belongings. With a slight hesitation, Brienne looked to Pod and nodded. Pod grabbed their canteens and bedrolls before coming to walk beside.

“You said Lord Tyrion is with you?” The boy’s eyes were hopeful and eager. Jaime chuckled lightly and nodded. “Yes, him and Bronn. They’re just up ahead and hopefully they haven’t killed each other in the time I’ve been gone.”

Pod’s eyes brightened at the words and he looked ahead eagerly, straining to see their camp in the distance. Jaime took the opportunity to glance back at Brienne. She grimaced slightly as she moved and kept her eyes to the ground. _Stubborn wench. She is hurting but will never admit it_. Appraising her, Jaime marveled at how well she looked considering who she fought.

A sense of pride flooded his chest before the worry returned. Turning to Pod, Jaime leaned in and whispered. “How bad was it?” Pod’s mirth died at the question. His face scrunched in discomfort as if recalling the fight. “She was amazing, but it was brutal.”

 _Fucking hells_. The closer they got to the camp, the more prominent the column of smoke became that stretched into the sky. Bronn and Tyrion could be heard laughing at what Jaime assumed to be some bawdy jape.

Nearing the pair, Jaime saw both men turn at their approaching footsteps. “Fuckin’ hell! If it ain’t Pod the rod!” Pod practically charged to the pair and exchanged greetings. The young squire was quite excited to reunite with his friends as he enthusiastically inquired after their well-being.

For her part, Brienne seemed a bit hesitant at joining their merged group. Jaime knew she was uneasy around unfamiliar company and likely wary as to his group’s intent. “Don’t worry my lady, only Bronn bites. My brother is quite harmless, but don’t trust anything he offers from a flask.”

A questioning brow rose at Jaime’s words, but Brienne kept her lips pressed firmly together. Pod’s familiarity with the pair did little to easy her worry as Jaime ushered her forward. “We should get the armor off of you. Appraise the damage you’ve done to yourself. Are you hungry?”

“No, but I would like to know why you are looking for me. I’m not going back to King’s Landing if that’s what this is about.” _Well this conversation will go well_.

Bronn and Tyrion looked from Pod to Brienne. Their eyes went wide at the sight of her and Jaime sent a silent prayer to the Seven that they didn’t make any untoward comments. Not surprisingly, Bronn immediately commented on Brienne’s appearance.

“What the fuck happened to ya face!?” Bronn’s eyes were wide. Jaime glared at Bronn from Brienne’s side; silently imploring the sellsword to make no further comments. Nervous that Bronn might say something worse, Jaime spoke quickly; stepping in front of Brienne. “She beat the hound in a fight. I imagine she looks infinitely better than you would.”

Bronn guffawed at the words, but Tyrion’s jaw hung open in shock. Taking a step closer to Brienne, Tyrion eyed her closely as he spoke; his voice filled with awe. “You defeated the Hound in battle?”

Pod excitedly jumped in to answer before Brienne could reply. “She crushed him! First, she beat him by sword, but then it turned into a fist fight and she knocked him off a cliff!”

Brienne began to interject, but Bronn laughed loudly and slapped his knee. Looking to Jaime, he teased. “Ya piss her off in ya marriage bed and she’ll kill ya for sure.” At his words, the group went silent apart from Bronn’s continued laughter. Jaime felt his ears redden, but Brienne and Pod looked more confused than anything.

Thankfully, Tyrion spoke where Jaime was otherwise at a loss for words. “Bronn, why don’t you fetch our friends some water from the stream down the way? Let my brother and I catch them up on what is happening.”

With a dramatic sigh, Bronn stomped off after grabbing the canteens from Pod. Brienne looked even more uncomfortable than when Jaime first walked them over and he worried that she would not react well to this information.

“So, the thing is, Cersei is demanding a new suspect be named in Joffrey’s death since Tyrion was found innocent. She is calling for you to be named and my father said that the crown won’t have a difficult time making the case against you. They know I helped you leave the city to find Sansa…”

Jaime paused to gauge Brienne’s reaction. Her eyes went wide in shock and she stammered to reply. “I didn’t do kill Joffrey!” Putting up an understanding hand, Jaime shook his head. “I know, I know! I told my father as much. He believes you, but… he made a deal with me. I don’t know that you’re going to like it very much, but it will keep you safe and breathing.”

Biting his lip, Jaime looked to Tyrion who was enjoying this a bit too much for Jaime’s liking. “He had Tommen release me from the Kingsguard. I am to take my place as heir to Casterly Rock and he had Tommen announce to the court that I was the one who sent you out to find Sansa on behalf of the crown.”

At his words, Brienne visibly relaxed. “Thank you. I’m sorry you had to give that up to save me. I know you don’t want any of that.”

“Well… don’t thank me yet. His condition is that we… uh… that we wed.” Jaime choked out the last part and watched in dismay as Brienne’s face paled. “What? What does one have to do with the other? Why me? Surely he can’t possibly want someone like me marrying you.”

Tyrion was trying and failing to cover the wide smile on his face as Jaime looked to the sky as though it held an answer that would spare his dignity. “Well… if you marry me, you’re protected from Cersei’s accusation on the matter. My father would never let Cersei ruin his chance at seeing the Lannister dynasty continue. If I don’t marry you, he has no reason nor desire to prevent her from falsely accusing you.”

Brienne’s face fell at the words. “So, you have to sacrifice yourself to prevent my death? I’m sorry Ser Jaime, but that is asking too much. I’ll take my chances, but I thank you for trying to help.”

“No! No, I already agreed. It’s done. I think my father has even written yours already. Unless… unless you don’t want to.”

“Well certainly you could tell your father you’ve changed your mind? Wouldn’t you prefer to marry someone more… appropriate? Or… oh… it’s because I know…” Brienne glanced to Pod and stopped talking. Her implications were clear. _She thinks I mean to marry her so that I can carry on with Cersei._

Jaime’s brows shot up and he looked to Tyrion for support, but his brother only bit back a smile. When an awkward silence descended over the group, Tyrion finally took pity on Jaime. “Pod, walk with me a bit. I wish to hear of your adventures with Lady Brienne. My legs could use a stretch. I’ve been on that awful horse for near a week straight.”

Checking to see if Brienne would protest, Pod nodded and stood up. Jaime watched as they walked in the direction that Bronn had gone. Turning to Brienne, Jaime took a deep breath and tried to explain without having to divulge too much.

“Do you think that I only agreed because of Cersei? That I would marry you, so I could keep…” Jaime shook his head seemingly unable to even say the words.

“I understand the appeal in using me as a cover for that. I don’t imagine other prospects would _understand_.” Putting up his hand, Jaime silently implored her to stop. “I want nothing to do with my sister. That is over with; I told her as much. Never again, I swear it.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion. Worried that he wasn’t getting through to her, Jaime tried a different approach. “If we get married, you will be safe from Cersei’s accusations and firmly under the crown’s and the West’s protection. Then we can fulfill our oath to Lady Catelyn together. Brienne, my father was very clear that if you don’t agree, they will charge you. I can help you to the best of my ability to escape, but… I fear they’ll find you. You couldn’t stay in Westeros.”

Taking a deep breath, Brienne looked to the ground and kicked around a rock under her foot. “I appreciate your willingness to help save my life, but what about you? Surely at some point you’ll want to take at true wife. Someone you can be happy with and start a family with.”

“Ladies of court are boring. I don’t want any of them. Look how much fun we had together in the Riverlands!”

“That was not fun! You lost your hand. I was nearly raped and killed by a bear.”

“No! Before all that.”

“What part of that was fun? You spent the entire time insulting me or trying to escape” Brienne snorted at her words and shook her head. “I am going to fulfill my oath to Lady Catelyn. If the crown comes for me, so be it. I appreciate you sacrificing so much to help me, but it is asking too much for you to give up. If they kill me, they kill me.”

“Brienne, please. Just consider it. You don’t need to answer right now. We were heading towards the Crossroads and can stay at the inn for the night. Just… think about it. We can do more to find and protect Sansa if we’re together. I… I would not be opposed to marriage with you. It was not forced on me.”

Eyeing him skeptically, Brienne huffed and shook her head in confusion. “Fine. I’ll think on it tonight.”

A wide smile stretched across Jaime’s face. “Good! Let me help you with the armor.” Moving to Brienne’s side, he reached for the first clasp or her armor.

“Pod can help with that. You don’t need to bother.” Brienne moved away slightly and began to tug at the arm guards. _So stubborn_. “I know he _can_ help but let me. Tyrion will likely be talking his ear off for some time.”

Moving back to her side, Jaime helped Brienne remove the rest of the armor. He cringed at the sight of the dry blood. “Is that your blood?” Eyeing her, Jaime held his breath as he awaited a response.

“I think it’s mostly the Hound’s. I had to bite off his ear.” Jaime snorted at the words and smiled as he responded to her flippant answer. “Gods, I think I got off easy in our fight. You’ll have to tell me more before Bronn comes back and starts prattling on. I'll warn you, he talks more than me.”

Encouraging Brienne to sit, Jaime went to the satchel for a cloth so he could clean the blood off her. Inspecting her as he went, Jaime listened as she described the fight in typical Brienne fashion. Brief. Concise. Restrained.

“Does anything feel broken?” Jaime studied her eyes as she answered, trying to identify any signs of her downplaying the pain. “I think I’m mostly bruised. I saw the cuts and bruises on my leg earlier. I imagine it’s the same on my lower back.”

Eyeing her back warily, Jaime hesitated and asked if he could look. With a shy nod, Brienne relented, and Jaime lifted the layers to see an expanse of scrapes and nasty bruising just at the waistline were the armor ended. “Gods. How did you get so many scrapes?”

“The terrain was rocky at cliff edge.” Jaime shuddered at her words. He could have lost her and spent the rest of his days searching Westeros for her body. “I’m surprised you’re not worse off.”

With a sly smile, Brienne met his eyes. “I had good armor and a better sword.”

Something about the softness in her eyes and the smoothed frown lines that usually took residence between her brows, made Jaime want to surge forward and kiss her, but he held back. “Yes, well I don’t think the armor and sword did you any favors in getting Arya to trust you.”

Brienne looked away and seemed to consider his words. “Right well, if you’re planning to fulfill the oath too, I imagine you’ll need the sword back at least.” Reaching down to pick up Oathkeeper, Brienne’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I tried to take proper care of it. It's clean from the fight too.”

With a shake of his head, Jaime put his hand atop hers and pushed the sword back towards her; smiling softly. “It’s yours. It will always be yours.” 


	5. At a Crossroad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime, Bronn, Brienne, and Pod arrive at the inn for the night.

“Come on. It will be just like good old times.” Jaime patted the horse and raised a brow at Brienne.

“Good old times? You mean when your hand was draped about you like a necklance and hung between us, rotting away while we rode? Or perhaps you mean before you lost the hand and we were tied back to back atop the horse.”

With a considering look, Jaime feigned indecision and considered his options. “Well the benefit to the severed hand bit was that I was quite feverish and couldn’t really hear you heckling me.”

Brienne scoffed. “Me, heckling you!? Were you truly that delirious?”

Raising his voice a few octaves in his best attempt to impersonate Brienne, Jaime repeated her words from over a year ago. “All I ever heard growing up was ‘Oooohhh Jaime Lannister. What a brilliant swordsman.’ You were slower than I expected.”

Brienne scoffed. “Oh, right apologies. You see, I was a bit miffed that you had just stolen one of my swords and tried to kill me with it. Shall we relive all the things you said to me? I fear we won’t have enough time for the full list of insults between now and my decision on the morrow.”

Tyrion sighed dramatically from atop his horse as Pod sat behind him. “As much as I enjoy watching your blossoming romance, I would prefer we get to the inn before dinner. I can’t take another night of burnt squirrel.”

Brienne felt her face flame at the words. She looked to Jaime expectantly, but when he didn’t move, Brienne let out a huff of irritation and mounted the horse. A victorious smile stretched across Jaime’s face as he climbed up behind her and pressed his body close. “Was that so difficult?”

Brienne felt Jaime’s breath, hot on her neck. His body lined against her back was like a sleeping fur draped over her. She had never _willingly_ been so close to another person before. Without her armor on, she felt smaller and exposed. She hated the sensation.

Loathe as she was to admit it, Jaime had the right of it when he suggested she keep the armor off to let her body heal. Given her injuries, it was hard walking around with the extra weight and the chest plate rubbed uncomfortably against the wounds on her back. The downside of course was the feeling of vulnerability.

To Brienne, armor was more than protection in battle. It was a physical representation of the protective shield she tried to surround herself with emotionally. When her armor was on, she felt confident and strong, like a knight. When her armor was off, she felt like little more than an ugly woman pretending to be something she knew she never could be.

Now as she sat with Jaime’s knees locked against her thighs and his chest pressed firmly against her back, the magnitude of the day’s events washed over. She already knew her answer to Jaime’s question, but would hold off until the morrow. _No. I could never marry you._

Every part of her wanted to flee when Jaime shared new of King’s Landing earlier, but she knew that would be of little use. She needed to get to the inn where there would be other people; witnesses. _Surely he won’t try to drag me back to King’s Landing with an entire inn full of people watching me refuse and struggle_.

If she said ‘no’ and tried to flee from their camp in the middle of nowhere, Brienne feared if he would resort to more drastic measures. The one thing she admired most about Jaime was the one thing that would be her undoing in this situation.

He would do anything to protect the innocent; even if it meant sacrificing his own reputation, happiness, and wants. Unfortunately, he thought she was an innocent in all this, which, like with Aerys, meant he was willing to put aside his own desires to offer protection.

_I could never doom him to a life with me, just because he feels it is his knightly duty to protect an innocent. He deserves a wife who won’t embarrass him or bring him shame. Someone beautiful in every light and not made only for the shadows or a helm._

_He deserves to find love with a woman instead of saddling himself with a beast such as me. I could never hope to elicit more than a feeling of comradery from Jaime. I’m only made for unrequited love and swinging a sword to protect others_. 

Brienne’s plan was simple. Sneak out in the middle of the night when the men slept in their assigned rooms _. Even Pod will be better off without me. I’m not a leader and I’m not a knight. They only sent him with me to keep him safe. Lord Tyrion’s death was all but guaranteed. Now that he is alive and safe, Pod can happily return to his service_.

In the event Brienne couldn’t manage to sneak out in the middle of the night, she had a backup plan. She would agree to go to King’s Landing, but tell Tywin the truth when she got there. She would tell Tywin that she wasn’t fit to wed his eldest son.

 _I’m not fit to marry anyone’s son for that matter_. She would demand a trial by combat and pray to the Seven that Jaime let her borrow Oathkeeper just a while longer.

Either she died fighting bravely for her innocence and the sword would be returned to its rightful owner, or she would live and return to her quest trying to find Lady Sansa, begging for a throwaway sword from the armory. _Something more befitting my worth_. 

Brienne had always assumed what she felt for Renly was love. It was youthful and innocent; a maiden’s crush on someone who showed her a kindness. It wasn’t until Brienne met Jaime that she understood the truth in her feelings for Renly.

By comparison, what Brienne felt for Jaime was all consuming and deep. Loving him from afar was hard enough. Loving him from a fake marriage that he offered to protect her from death was torture.

As they made their way north along the Kingsroad, Brienne listened to the banter of the men around her. She lamented her inability to partake in that kind of easy companionship. Throughout her life, she had always struggled socially. She was awkward and bumbling. Too literal and serious to understand a jape. More often than not, the jape was at her expense anyway, so Brienne imagined there was little point in joining in.

“Are you ignoring me wench?” Jaime’s voice tickled Brienne’s ear as she felt the stubble of his chin brush against her cheek. _Gods. When did he get that close?_

Brienne hummed innocently as she considered his question. _Had he asked me something? Was I daydreaming?_ “Did you say something?”

“Well I asked nothing per say, but you are not talking. You know I hate silence on our adventures. Shall we start over? I’m Jaime Lannister.” The teasing lilt in Jaime’s voice brought her back to the present.

Having little desire to play any games with Jaime, she mumbled her response. “I’m Brienne of Tarth.”

“What was that? Brian? Brian of Tarth?”

With an irritated huff, Brienne elbowed Jaime in the side and chuckled to herself at the yelp her well-placed blow produced. What she did not expect was Jaime to wrap his arms around her in response. “Gods wench. You almost knocked me off the horse. That would have been twice since I’ve known you, that you’ve seen fit to unceremoniously drop me from a horse.”

Wiggling in his grasp, Brienne tried to shuck Jaime off, but he only held on tighter. _Gods he is stronger than I remember_. “You’re not a terribly good lead rider. Mayhap you should have been in the back. Although I suppose I wouldn’t have this nice pillow to rest my head on.”

Jaime placed his head against her upper back, just below the neck and chuckled into her body as she in vain to shake him off again.

They wrestled the rest of the way to the inn; Brienne trying to shove him off her body and Jaime trying to grab hold impossibly tighter. When they arrived, Tyrion went inside to secure rooms for the night. Pod and Bronn went inside to find a table while Brienne and Jaime tied off the horses.

Brienne had little faith in Pod’s ability to handle the task and Jaime, for reasons unbeknownst to her, offered to help. When eventually Tyrion came outside from speaking with the proprietor, he produced a key and a wide smile. “They only had two rooms left. Pod, Bronn, and I already claimed one. You two will just have to bunk together.”

With a wink, he walked back inside and shouted over his shoulder. “The keep will serve our dinner when we’re settled in.”

 _Seven hells. Now how am I supposed to leave. He is a lighter sleeper than me_. Glancing to Jaime, Brienne saw the irritation on his face.

 _And this man thought he could survive a life wed to me for the sake of sparing an innocent life. He can’t even stomach the idea of sharing a space with me. Gods, please let this room have two beds_.

Jaime muttered an apology and grabbed the satchel off his horse as Brienne retrieved her armor. Making their way inside, Jaime and Brienne ascended the steps to the rooms and found their assigned chambers. Jaime opened the door to reveal a small room with a single bed in the middle, a table in the back corner and a smaller table near the entryway.

 _Fuck_. Brienne watched as Jaime hesitated in the doorway before slowly moving into the room. He deposited the satchel on the small table in the corner of the room and looked despairingly at the bed. “I can grab a bedroll from the horses. I don’t mind the floor.”

“No, it’s your coin. You take the bed. I likely won’t sleep much anyway.” Brienne swallowed down the lie. She was exhausted and in pain. A grassy spot outside would have been more forgiving than the wooden floor. The only benefit seemed to be an easier way out in the middle of the night.

Jaime rolled his eyes at her suggestion. “I will not have a lady sleep on the floor.”

“I’m not a lady.”

“Apologies. I will not have a lady knight sleep on the floor. Besides, you’re injured and I’m fine. Lets go eat.” Jaime pushed past Brienne and waited in the hallway as she set her armor down on the floor. The metal pieces clanged together loudly as they touched the floor. _Fuck. How will I sneak out with noise like that?_

Exiting the room, Brienne saw Pod, Bronn, and Tyrion emerge from their assigned chambers. Bronn clapped Jaime on the shoulder and smiled teasingly. “How’s the room for our newly betrothed couple? Nice and cozy for ya?”

Bronn chuckled at Jaime’s irritated expression and Brienne was reminded of the many japes at her expense. She felt badly that Jaime was now a target by association. Hanging her head to hide her embarrassment, Brienne waited for the men to walk by as she slowly followed.

Catching her unaware, Jaime was at her side and leaning into her. “Bronn is an idiot. Ignore him. He just likes to have a go at my expense.” Jaime smiled warmly but it did little to comfort Brienne.

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t have volunteered to suffer through a marriage to save me. The japes would never end.” Brienne continued to walk towards the stairs just a few paces behind the group, but Jaime’s hand grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

“He isn’t mocking you, Brienne. If he was, I would smack him across the face with this worthless brick strapped to my arm.” Jaime raised his false hand at the words.

“Why would he mock you if not for me?” Brienne’s face was incredulous as she turned to walk away, but Jaime’s hand grabbed her again. “He has been mocking my _inexperience_ since I met him. Just watch when we go down there. He’ll find himself a whore within five minutes. I guarantee it.”

“Inexperience? Does he not know about…” Brienne emphasized the point with her eyes, ensuring Jaime knew her meaning.

“No, no. He knows about that wretched mistake. Well… a lifelong mistake really.” Jaime’s face flushed slightly as he stumbled over his next words. “It’s um… inexperience with _other_ women. I wouldn’t even know how to court you properly if I tried.”

Brienne guffawed. “I can’t imagine you would need to do much to court a woman. Can’t you just sit there and look pretty for the ones you fancy?”

Jaime laughed nervously and looked away. “Oh, is that all it takes.” _Oh, so is that it then?_

Lowering her voice, Brienne looked to Jaime seriously. “You really shouldn’t settle for someone you don’t love just because you’re afraid to try courting someone. Surely, your brother would help you.”

Something flashed across Jaime’s face that Brienne couldn’t read. Without answering her, he moved to the stairs and went to join the other men. Brienne slowly followed but wondered if they would prefer to eat without her.

Making her way downstairs, Brienne spotted the group sitting at a back table. It was smaller and truly meant to accommodate a group of four, but they had pulled up a fifth chair for her. As she approached, Brienne could see Jaime angrily whispering to Bronn; his face red with irritation. The sellsword put up his hands in mock surrender as Tyrion spoke in hushed tones to Pod.

At her approach, Jaime sat back and stopped talking. Offering a small smile, Brienne sat in the free chair between Jaime and Pod. A serving woman came around to give them food and take their drink order.

The woman was young and pretty with a lowcut top that Brienne imagine earned a lot of coin from the male patrons. Not surprisingly, the buxom brunette was immediately taken with Jaime. Brienne wasn’t the only one at the table to notice. Tyrion and Bronn shared a knowing laugh as the woman eye fucked Jaime without shame.

For his part, Jaime seemed utterly oblivious. Bronn covered his mouth and muttered. “Fuckin’ hells. Here we go again.” When the woman walked away to procure the drinks, Bronn lost it.

Pointing to Jaime, Bronn vented. “Why does this fucker get all the women!? He don’t even notice ‘em.” Brienne bit back a laugh at Jaime’s confused expression. “What? What are you on about?”

Bronn rolled his eyes. “The one with the tits. Did ya not notice? She was practically ready to drop to ‘er knees and suck ya cock.”

“You’re disgusting.” Jaime rubbed his forehead and looked down at the table. Tyrion chortled beside Bronn. “Yes, well you’re irritated, yet you’ve only known him for a few moons. Imagine being me! I’ve dealt with being Jaime Lannister’s brother my entire life.”

Jaime scoffed. “Yes, very highly sought after indeed. After the kingslaying bit, I’ve been batting them away for years.”

Moments later, the woman returned with the drinks. Standing between Pod and Brienne, the young woman slid Bronn’s and Tyrion’s mugs of ale to them lazily. She then left the two ales for Pod and Brienne at the edge of the table between them.

Much to everyone’ amusement, the woman then moved around the table to set Jaime’s mug down before him; her half-exposed breasts nearly brushing across his face in the process. Brienne bit her lip to keep the laughter from spilling out.

“Can I get anything else for you lads?” The woman kept her eyes on Jaime as she addressed the group. At the words, Brienne felt her face flame in embarrassment. It wasn’t the first time Brienne had been assumed a man and she knew it wouldn’t be the last.

Shocking everyone in the group, Jaime responded in an agitated tone to the woman. “My betrothed is not a _lad_. Mayhap your corset is too tight and cutting off oxygen to your brain.”

Pulling Brienne’s chair closer with his feet, Jaime glared at the serving woman whose eyes went wide in shock. “That’s a... apologies.”

Tyrion spoke in an equally cross tone that sent a clear message to the woman. “Yes, I do believe we’re all set here, unless of course the lady of the table requires anything further.” Raising a polite brow to Brienne, Tyrion awaited her answer as did the serving woman.

Jaime’s right arm wrapped around Brienne’s waist as he picked up his ale and took a long sip. Brienne swallowed thickly and replied at a barely audible level. “I’m fine, thank you.”

The woman smiled politely before quickly retreating. Bronn snorted and raised his mug. “To the future Lady of the Rock and all the things she may do to Jaime’s rocks.” Brienne eyes went wide at the crassness of Bronn’s words.

“What the fuck is wrong with you! She is a highborn lady and you speak that filth.” Jaime’s arm remained firmly wrapped around Brienne as he spat the words. Even Tyrion seemed to be tiring of Bronn’s commentary.

“You did hear that she defeated the Hound? You keep speaking that way and my future goodsister may cut off _your_ rocks.” _Why do they keep speaking as though this betrothal is real?_

Brienne squirmed uncomfortably, but Jaime would not release his hold. When the food arrived, Brienne practically melted at the sight of a warm meal that wasn’t fresh kill cooked over a campfire.

They ate and talked, but more surprising to Brienne was the amount of empty ale mugs being replenished by the staff. Even Jaime seemed to be enjoying the ale more than Brienne would have expected.

Brienne knew the men were feeling good, because they became louder and repetitive. She had to retell the fight with the Hound at least three times before declaring enough was enough. It had hardly occurred to Brienne that she was nearly matching the men in drink.

 _Gods, I’m truly going to pay for this later_. With each mug of ale, Jaime grew bolder and friendlier with Brienne; particularly whenever the serving woman came around. He draped himself over her and chuckled into her ear. “Gods she’s back. Save me. Be chivalrous.”

As the evening progressed, Bronn caught the eye of a local whore and abandoned their table for the woman’s company. Local revelers poured in for drink which only increased the volume in the room. Looking to her right, Brienne saw that Pod had fallen asleep face down on the table. Tyrion hardly noticed as he carried on with his japes and stories.

Deciding she was due for sleep herself, Brienne stood and excused herself, but quickly found she was not alone. Jaime pressed himself against her back as Brienne tried to move upstairs.

Tyrion chuckled and yelled out to them. “Yes, don’t worry. I’ll pay the tab. You just leave me here with a sleeping squire.”

Grabbing the bannister at the bottom of the stairs, Brienne felt Jaime’s hand at her right arm. “I’m trying to be courtly and you’re ruining it. I’m supposed to walk my lady to her room, or do you prefer I just sit there and look pretty?”

With a teasing tone, Brienne met Jaime’s eyes and smiled sarcastically. “Do you even remember where the room is? Shall I get the serving woman to help you find the way?”

Jaime snorted and dragged Brienne up the stairs. “I don’t want her help. She isn’t wenchish enough. Now be nice and remind me where we’re staying.”

As they stumbled down the hallway, Jaime moved ahead to unlock the door. Brienne reached for her head and tried to will away the haze from the ale. Jaime pushed open the door with a dramatic bow and Brienne groaned at the realization that she had not retrieved a bedroll earlier.

Bracing himself against the wall inside the room, Jaime toed off his boots and looked to Brienne expectantly. _Hard floor it is._ Brienne kicked off her boots and removed her top layers down to her tunic. Taking off his own jerkin, Jaime yawned and chucked the garment to the side.

Before Brienne could move to lay on the floor, Jaime’s arms were firmly wrapped around Brienne’s waist as he launched them both into the bed. Pulling up the furs, Jaime threw his arm haphazardly over Brienne and moved close beside her.

“What are you doing!?” _Gods he is drunk._

“SSshhh. Quiet, wench. I’m tired.” Within moments, Jaime was lightly snoring in Brienne’s ear.

Telling herself not to fall asleep so that she could sneak out, Brienne tried to concentrate on what she had to accomplish.

 _Collect clothing. Grab armor and sword. Sneak out. Get far enough north. Find Sansa_.

Brienne mentally repeated the list twice before falling asleep.

When Brienne awoke the next morning, she was surprised to find herself pressed against Jaime’s neck. His arms were firmly wrapped around her in sleep while their legs were tangled under the furs. Jaime’s lips were pressed close against Brienne’s forehead.

Panic hit Brienne. _He is going to be horrified if he wakes up to this. ‘Uglier in daylight’_. Slipping out from the bed, Brienne rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She desperately needed a chamber pot, but she was not about to use the one in their room. Brienne put on her boots before slipping outside.

As she made her way to the stairs, she heard rapid footsteps behind her. “Where are you going?” Brienne turned to see Jaime moving quickly towards her. His hair stuck out at all ends and he was bootless.

“I’m going downstairs.” Brienne took a few steps down the stairs, but Jaime’s hand came to her arm. “What for? The others won’t be awake for some time.” As they began to bicker on the stairs, voices below caught Brienne’s attention. Looking down from her position on the stairs, Brienne saw Sansa Stark and Petyr Baelish enter the inn with nearly a dozen soldiers.

Turning to Jaime with eyes wide in shock, she saw her thoughts reflected on his own face. _Gods. She’s here._


	6. Plan of Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion thinks of a plan to get Sansa away from Baelish and Jaime is not too keen on it.

When Jaime felt Brienne slip out of bed, he worried that his overt affections had chased her away. Just being around Brienne the night before made his head spin and heart flutter. Whether it was the ale or requited affection, Brienne didn’t push away from his touch during dinner or afterwards.

Jaime had been demoralized at Brienne’s unenthusiastic response to the prospect of marrying him. It made him fearful of expressing his true feelings for her. Jaime’s need for self-preservation won out over Tyrion’s advice to simply tell Brienne the truth of it. During the journey north, Tyrion took every opportunity when Bronn wasn’t within earshot to coach Jaime on how to approach the topic with Brienne.

The moment Jaime saw her, the opposite happened. Every bit of advice from Tyrion escaped Jaime when he looked into Brienne’s eyes. His brain seemed to stop functioning at the level required to form words. His heart raced and his palm was sweaty.

Now laying in the bed as he listened to Brienne leave the room, Jaime fretted. _Mayhap she was being nice or didn’t know how to turn me down? She’s too kind to cause harm._ As fear seeped in, Jaime chased her into the hallway. “Where are you going?” _You’re not leaving me, are you? Is your answer ‘no’?_

“I’m going downstairs.” Watching Brienne descend a few steps, Jaime couldn’t stop his mind from assuming the worst-case scenario. Grabbing her arm, Jaime captured her attention. “What for?”

They began to bicker about the early hour and status of others in their group, but then a familiar set of voices carried up the stairwell. Looking down, Jaime saw Sansa Stark and Petyr Baelish enter the inn with men from the Vale at their backs.

 _Oh fuck! She’s here._ Seeing the situation register on Brienne’s face, Jaime quickly grabbed her arm, yanking her around the corner and out of sight. He pressed Brienne up against the wall, leaning against her slightly and covering her mouth to prevent the yelp from catching unwanted attention.

Brienne’s brows furrowed in irritation and Jaime’s eyes beseeched her not to cause a scene. Shushing her, Jaime looked around the corner. A member of the inn’s staff seated them at a table out of sight. _Tyrion will know what to do._

As Jaime’s hand withdrew from her mouth, Brienne glared at Jaime and reprimanded him in hushed tones. “What are you doing!?” Jaime huffed as though it was obvious and met her gaze.

“We can’t just charge down there without a plan. He has near a dozen men with him. There are two of us and we only have thee hands!”

Grabbing Brienne’s arm, Jaime pulled her towards Tyrion’s room. He wasn’t surprised when it took several knocks to rouse of the three from sleep. A weary looking Pod answered the door and Jaime pushed past him. Tyrion was snoring on one of two bed in the modest room. His shoes were still on and it appeared he hadn’t bothered with the furs all night. _He must have fallen into bed drunk_.

By comparison, Bronn was dressed in nothing but his smallclothes. Jaime bit back a laugh as Brienne gasped in disgust at the sight of the tented material. For a moment, Jaime’s mind wandered back to when he had woken up that morning.

He had been having a rather vivid dream of Brienne that involved her _very_ enthusiastically accepting his proposal. When he found consciousness, it was to his hand in his smallclothes and a similar problem of his own. Brienne was facing away from him and towards the window, thankfully still deep in sleep.

Knowing that finding his release was hardly an option, Jaime conjured every unpleasant image he could to alleviate the awkward situation. It wasn’t until he felt confident that his cock wouldn’t spring back to life that he reached over and rolled Brienne against him. Jaime was desperate to hold her even if she woke up to tell him that the offer of marriage wasn’t agreeable.

Now as they stood in Tyrion’s room, Jaime kicked his younger brother’s bed hard enough to wake a dead man. Sitting up as though under attack, Tyrion blinked rapidly and rubbed the sleep from his face. “What’s going on?”

“Your wife is downstairs.”

“That’s nice.” Tyrion flopped back down to the mattress and closed his eyes. With a deep sigh, Jaime waited for Tyrion’s brain to properly process the information.

As expected, Tyrion immediately sprang back up from bed.

“My wife!? What!?” Tyrion looked around the room as if the girl was hidden among the piles of clothing, satchels, and furs.

Waiting for Tyrion to meet his eyes, Jaime glanced to Brienne and Pod who were speaking quietly by the door. When Tyrion had his facilities about him, he looked to Jaime. “Who is she with?”

“She is with Littlefinger and about a dozen soldiers from the Vale. There might be more outside. We couldn’t get that far.”

Tyrion rubbed his head and threw a pillow at Bronn. The sellsword sat up quickly and his eyes went wide at the crowd in the room. “Fuckin’ hells. This better be good. I was havin’ a wonderful dream relivin’ last night’s whore.”

 _I will never understand the company my brother keeps_. With a sigh, Tyrion updated Bronn on the situation downstairs. Considering the information, Bronn tipped his chin at Brienne. “Hey. Hound killer. How many can ya take?”

Jaime felt his eyes go wide. “You mean to just slit all their throats in the middle of an inn!”

“Four. _Maybe_ five if I can catch them unaware.” Brienne’s casual tone caught Jaime off-guard.

Looking to her as though she forgot herself, Jaime scoffed. “You can’t be serious, Brienne!? You. You who wouldn’t kill one fucking farmer, is ready to march downstairs and start running your sword through Vale soldiers.”

“They have Lady Sansa. I doubt she wants to be with Littlefinger. The farmer was an innocent.”

“Oh, yes. An innocent who reported us to Locke! Very innocent.”

They glared at one another before Tyrion’s voice caught their attention. “No one is killing anyone yet. We will use words. This is why you brought me along.”

Jaime assessed Tyrion and saw his mind rapidly playing out various scenarios. Since childhood, Jaime could never understand how Tyrion’s mind worked so quickly. He always seemed to be a step ahead of everyone else. “Care to share? I would like to be prepared for what we’re potentially walking into.”

Tyrion sighed as Bronn and Pod quickly clothed themselves and packed up their belongings. “Yes, there are less of us and despite having Lady Brienne here, we can’t kill them all without getting ourselves killed. That said, they can’t kill us. Do you think Baelish is so stupid as to kill both of Tywin’s sons? He will bring the crown and the West down on him. I don’t know how Baelish is involved in Sansa’s escape, although I imagine he orchestrated it. He had supposedly left for the Vale before Joffrey’s wedding. Sansa is my wife. She is your goodsister. She is soon to be Brienne’s goodsister. The crown has sent missives indicating as much and stating Lady Brienne was sent to find Lady Sansa and bring her back. Baelish may want the girl for some reason I’ve yet to consider, but he has no leg to stand on. He couldn’t possibly hope to make a scene down there.”

Brienne scoffed from behind Jaime. “You think Littlefinger is just going to hand her over because she’s your wife? Sansa hates the Lannisters. Why would she come with us? I should go down there and talk to her.”

Jaime stared at Brienne as though she sprouted a second head. “No! You are not going down there alone. I don’t trust Baelish”

“I agree with Jaime. You can’t go alone. You’ll go with me. Sansa trusts me and she _might_ trust you if we explain what you were to her mother. It will help that I’m with you, but I will do the talking. Please don’t. You’re far too honest and literal.”

“And what exactly are the rest of us supposed to do?” Jaime felt his fist clench at his side. He couldn’t believe Tyrion would consider any action that would put Brienne in harm’s way like this.

Tyrion sighed and looked at Jaime. “No harm will befall Lady Brienne. Pod here is going to settle our tab with the innkeeper. He is the only one they won’t recognize. You and Bronn will need to ready the horses. Be careful and quick moving past the dining area. Cloak yourselves. You will wait on horseback for us. Brienne and I will approach Sansa. We will explain that our forces are just outside, so if we do not leave with Sansa imminently, that contingent will come inside and slaughter them all.”

“I’m starting to like Bronn’s plan more and more. I say we just slaughter them all.” Jaime looked around to see if everyone else concurred, but Tyrion scoffed and immediately overrode the idea.

“Oh, yes. Nothing will make Sansa want to trust us like Jaime Lannister, Cersei’s twin and renowned lover, showing up and killing everyone. You do realize she hates Cersei? Why would she trust you of all people? And by the Gods, Brienne can’t wear that sword when we go to meet Sansa. She can exchange swords with Bronn for now.”

At his words, Brienne sighed. “He’s right about the sword. Arya wouldn’t trust me because of it.” Bronn’s eyes flashed excitedly as he eyed the sword and Jaime felt panic pool in his stomach.

“No! I’ll hold onto it.” Something about Bronn having Oathkeeper strapped to his waist felt wrong and unpleasant. The knowing look exchanged between Tyrion and Bronn did not escape Jaime, but he didn’t care.

Tyrion sighed and looked at Jaime. “Lets try this my way. If it doesn’t work, you can come in and slaughter everyone. Surely, you’ll hear the skirmish break out if my method doesn’t work. Pod can stand near the inn door.”

Bronn and Brienne agreed to the idea and Pod seemed indifferent, but Jaime was still worried. Baelish couldn’t be trusted. The thought of him having immediate access to Brienne was unnerving. “I’m standing near the door. Not Pod.”

After getting his brother to concede on the matter, they prepared their things and followed Tyrion’s plan. Pod met with the innkeeper to pay the tab. Bronn and Jaime quickly snuck outside after covering their heads. A quick glance on the way out revealed Sansa and Littlefinger to be sitting near a window.

After readying the horses, Jaime moved to the window where their table was and listened intently. With the window ajar, Jaime could hear Baelish and Sansa talking about a marriage proposal. It wasn’t long before Brienne and Tyrion approached the table.

Tyrion’s voice floated through the window where Jaime sat pressed against the wall of the inn, trying and failing to appear nonchalant.

“Ah, there you are! My lady wife! I was worried sick about you.”

Sansa’s voice rose in shock. “Lord Tyrion! What are you doing here!?”

There were some words exchanged that Jaime couldn’t hear, but then Baelish spoke. “Its fine. Let them through. Lord Tyrion and Lady Brienne. How very interesting to find you here. I assumed that one of you would be occupied in the black cells while the other would be occupied trying to find a new lord or lady to serve.”

 _Fucking hells, I hate this man_.

Tyrion’s voice was louder as he had apparently moved closer to the table. “Ah, perhaps word of my innocence hasn’t reached your _many_ ears yet. Well, I thank you for keeping a watch over _my_ wife, but as you know, she is not meant to be with _you_. How very odd however that you do have her with you.”

Baelish’s oily voice poured out from the window and made Jaime’s lips curl in distaste. “Even more interesting that you are here with Lady Brienne. Just a week ago, a most curious missive reached the Vale from the queen. Lady Brienne is a suspect in King Joffrey’s murder. The order calls for Lady Brienne to be captured or _dealt with_ if she puts up a fight. Perhaps Lord Tyrion, you don’t realize that you travel with an accused murderer and someone who does not have Lady Sansa’s best interests at heart.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide at the words. _Father would never have sent that_. It was evident to Jaime that Cersei went behind Tywin’s back to try and have Brienne killed. Jaime’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of Widow’s Wail. He had taken Joffrey’s sword upon departing King’s Landing and thought it fitting that it be reunited with Oathkeeper.

Tyrion chuckled and responded immediately. “That’s fascinating. Has Tommen married Queen Margery so soon? When I left, conversations were only just being had of their betrothal after the untimely death of Joffrey.”

“I speak of Queen Cersei.”

“Perhaps you are confused over how lines of succession work. Tommen is king now. I highly doubt he has married my sister, therefor she can’t be queen and has no right to send such threats. What the crown did however proclaim is that Lady Brienne was sent to find and _protect_ Lady Sansa, my wife…”

Tyrion paused before continuing.

“…Sansa, I don’t believe you’ve had the honor of formally meeting Lady Brienne. She was your mother’s sworn sword. Your mother tasked her with returning my brother to King’s Landing in exchange for you and Arya.”

Sansa had remained quiet through the exchange but spoke confidently. “I saw her at Joffrey’s wedding. She bowed to the king.” Her last words were spat with malice and Jaime groaned inwardly. This is not going well.

Tyrion chuckled. “Yes, and _we_ sat at his table. I think we all played our role well; you know that better than most. We all did what we had to do to survive. As you can hear, my sister now wants Lady Brienne’s head. I imagine that should tell you all you need to know about where Lady Brienne’s loyalties lie.”

Baelish spoke quickly in what sounded both a plea to Sansa and slight to Brienne. “Yes, interesting how Lady Brienne came into service of your mother. I believe it was immediately following her accused murder of Lord Renly Baratheon.”

“I did not murder Renly! I…”

Tyrion interrupted for which Jaime was immensely grateful. _Gods we don’t need that shadow story again_. “Do you know how Lady Brienne came into Lady Catelyn’s service? They met at Renly’s camp. Lady Catelyn was there when Renly was murdered. Do you really think Lady Catelyn is the type of woman who would take on a murderer as a sworn sword?”

Jaime smiled to himself at how quickly Tyrion thought on his feet. Baelish stood little chance against him.

“Now listen, I don’t know what business you have escorting my wife about the countryside without my knowledge, but I am here for her best interest as they are intrinsically tied to my own. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. The hard way is you refuse to release my wife. The crown gets a most displeasing missive from me that you kidnapped my wife and likely are involved in the murder of Joffrey. Also, I’ve instructed my guards to await me outside the inn. If I am not back shortly, they plan to lay siege to this little inn and judging by your numbers, you are outnumbered 5 to 1…”

“… Now the easy way is you release my wife back under my protection. Just as the vows say. How convenient. Lady Brienne and I can be on our way and we will see to Sansa’s safety. No one need know of this little encounter. We both know Joffrey was a shit after all.”

A heavy silence fell over the group inside and Jaime felt his breathing stop. Then Baelish’s voice poured out from the window. “Lady Sansa, I would never hold you against your will. You are no prisoner of mine. The choice lies with you.”

Before Sansa could speak, Tyrion spoke gently to Sansa. “Sansa, you _know_ who I am. You _know_ my feelings towards certain members of my House and my commitment to keep you safe. I _know_ where you wish to be and will see it happen. Lady Brienne here is _your_ mother’s sworn sword. She fights for no one but your mother which now makes her _your_ sworn sword now. She would run me through if I did anything that displeases you. Lord Baelish here… well, you _know_ what he has done and can do. Think carefully on your decision.”

Another silence fell over the group before Sansa made her decision. “Lord Baelish, I thank you for your protection and many lessons, but I am going with my husband and Lady Brienne now.”

With a satisfied smile, Jaime moved quickly to mount his horse. He nodded to Bronn and Pod who mounted theirs. Bronn took the liberty of “borrowing” three horses from the Vale, quickly discarding their covering with the Arryn’s sigil.

Moments later, Sansa, Brienne, and Tyrion emerged from the inn. Brienne helped both onto a horse and they took off. At Tyrion’s earlier insistence, Jaime and Bronn rode just ahead, their faces still concealed.

They rode west for some time until there was enough distance between them and the inn. Jaime’s mind raced as he considered what had happened. _My fucking sister is trying to have Brienne killed. I can’t take her back to the capital. I must take her somewhere safe._

“Hello! Stop!” Tyrion called out from behind Jaime as they rode west. “Gods stop! Jaime!”

“Jaime!?” Sansa bellowed from beside Tyrion; her eyes wide in shock and distrust.

Stopping at a stream, Jaime quickly dismounted and threw back the hood from his head. He was furious and pointed at Tyrion warningly. “That fucking, miserable bitch! I knew she would do something like this!”

Sansa gasped in recognition of Jaime. “The Kingslayer! I won’t go back to the capital! I only agreed to join you because I trust Baelish even less than you, Tyrion. Why is your brother here!?”

“Sansa, please! Let me explain!”

“Oh, don’t worry little wolf! I’m not taking anyone back to King’s Landing! I refuse to take Brienne back there! Fucking hells! I should have killed Cersei when I was there! Tyrion, we need to get them somewhere safe.”

At Jaime’s words, Sansa’s eyes went wide in confusion as she looked between Brienne and Tyrion.

Sansa’s voice was wary when she next spoke. “Where do you mean to take us if not King’s Landing?”

“Casterly Rock. My cunt of a sister can’t touch anyone there.”


	7. Dealing With A Viper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei plots in King's Landing.

Cersei pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and ducked outside the Keep. She moved quickly through the gardens to the designated meeting location at the far edge of the gardens. The night was unusually brisk, and the smell of an incoming storm hung heavy in the air.

Moving through a dimly lit path, Cersei kept an eye out for anyone who might see her movements and report back to Tywin. In the distance, she could see the outline of the rock wall she would need to descend down to the beach.

She knew of the location from the spies she had follow Jaime when he returned to King’s Landing. He had taken to training with Tyrion’s sellsword on the secluded beach. The mere thought of it made Cersei’s stomach churn.

 _That fucking stump. I can’t believe he lost the hand protecting that cow! How dare he give up the only useful part of himself for that beast_.

Cersei had been incensed for days after Jaime spat that filth at her in the courtyard. She vowed that she would do everything within her power to destroy Brienne and bask in Jaime’s misery over it. Her first order of business was to get word to those in a unique position to do her bidding. There were select few she had leverage over in knowing they would not report conflicting orders to Tywin.

It was widely known that Baelish had left King’s Landing before Joffrey’s wedding to sail to the Vale and seek Lysa Arryn’s hand. Baelish was not someone who could be trusted, and it did not escape Cersei that their interests rarely coincided.

While Cersei didn’t trust his agenda which often conflicted with her won, she knew that she could leverage Baelish to remove her enemies. Tywin wouldn’t trust Baelish enough to take the former Master of Coin’s word over her own should he make the error of writing the crown.

Cersei also knew that the Boltons could not be trusted. Like her father, they only wanted to be on the winning side or the side offering them the greatest reward. She sent a similar missive north telling them of how to handle the cow should she try and seek out Sansa there.

Writing the missive to Bolton, a smile had tugged at her lips. The Boltons had taken Jaime’s hand. The Boltons had tried to throw the beast into a bear pit. They would give her a painful end if she fell into their hands.

Most of the other kingdoms could not be trusted with this task. Word had gone out of Bienne’s supposed quest for Sansa at the crown’s behest. Cersei couldn’t risk a conflicting message making its way back to Tywin by contacting the other lords.

Dorne was the only other kingdom with potential to aid her cause. It was for Dorne that she found herself near the secluded beach.

As Cersei descended the rocky steps towards the beach, she saw the hooded figure leaning against the large rock wall. The sound of the waves crashing hard against the shore would serve as the perfect backdrop to ensure anyone following her would be unable to hear the conversation about to take place.

In the moonlight, Cersei could make out the stubbled jaw of Oberyn’s face. After over a week of consideration, the Viper finally agreed to meet and discuss Cersei’s proposal. A small smile tugged at Cersei’s lips. “You have an answer for me?”

Oberyn nodded his head and looked down at her from the edge of the hood covering his face. The darkness of the night combined with the shadow of the hood gave his eyes a dangerous glow.

“I would like to discuss the terms in greater detail.”

Cersei resisted the urge to reprimand the Dornish prince. _He only needs the details that I provide and nothing more_.

“The terms are clear. I want my daughter back and the cow dead. You want revenge against the man who gave the order. If my brother makes the mistake of returning to King’s Landing with that beast in tow, there will be a wedding of the utmost Lannister proportions. Of course, Jaime’s niece should be there. You will ensure that happens. I will procure a poison similar to what was used on Joffrey and it will be deposited into _his_ drink. You will have your revenge and then I will have mine. Who better to implicate than the beast? She is already a suspect in one death by poisoning.”

With a heavy sigh, Oberyn considered the detail. “I do not like poison. A woman’s weapon. I prefer the spear.”

 _Fucking hells this idiot will ruin everything_. Cersei gritted her teeth and spat at Oberyn in hushed tones. “Don’t you think it would be difficult to pin the blame on the cow if you’re shoving a spear into _his_ chest in the middle of a wedding feast?”

“I care little to lay blame on another; particularly Lady Brienne. She has done me no wrong.”

Cersei considered his words and thought quickly. A small smile spread across her face. “Follow my plan as described and you will obtain complete revenge. You’ve been missing someone from your list.”

At her words, Oberyn’s head tilted slightly. The shadows outlining his face shifted and one of his eyes came into view. She saw it there. _Thirst for blood_.

“Aerys isn’t the only one my brother betrayed. Jaime was charged with protecting the king and his family. Why do you suppose he didn’t do everything he could to protect Ellia and the children? Mayhap because my father told him not to.”

A flicker of rage flashed across Oberyn’s face. Cersei knew she had his attention and spoke more urgently. “Brienne will never accept a trial. She will request Trial by Combat. The beast fancies herself a knight. My brother is in love with the cow and will champion her. You will be champion for the crown. Jaime has one hand and you will be able to torture him to your heart’s content. Give him a slow death for all I care. I will handle the cow’s demise when she is proclaimed guilty after the trial. You will have no part in that. Your only sacrifice in this plan is one death by poison. Won’t two deaths by spear make up for it?”

Oberyn sighed in consideration and looked to the crashing waves below. After a moment of reflection, he looked back to Cersei. “I accept these terms. I am not pleased of Lady Brienne’s fate, but if she chooses to lay with the lion, I cannot help this.”

The feeling of power and victory coursed through Cersei’s veins. As they parted ways, Cersei considered the missives she had sent the Vale and the North. _Mayhap I was too rash in seeking the beast’s immediate death. I suppose it would have been more prudent to await Oberyn’s reply. No matter. If they kill the beast now, I’ll simply need to ensure father moves quickly to arrange another bride for Jaime. I must get Myrcella back._

Slipping back into the keep after a long walk from the beach, Cersei made her way towards her room. She removed her cloak as she pushed open the door and a smile spread across her lips. Everything was working out perfectly. Soon she would make the cow and Jaime pay.

With Tywin gone, she would rule through Tommen and no one would force her to wed another miserable shit to forge an alliance. Her next step would be killing her imp of a brother.

Looking up as she closed the door behind her, Cersei’s smile dropped, and her eyes went wide. Her father stood in her room, hands clasped behind his back and bearing an expression that could be described as nothing less than furious.

“Father. What are you doing here?”

Tywin appraised her and took a menacing step forward. “Who do you think you are?”

Cersei’s nose wrinkled at the question. “I’m the Queen!”

“Wrong! Tommen is King and I am his Hand. You are nothing more than my daughter and you will do as I command. You will not use your position as mother of the King to enforce your own selfish desires. I will not see you destroy this family!”

Cersei flinched at his words and watched as Tywin produced a letter from behind his back. “You brother wrote to inform me that he and Tyrion have found both Lady Brienne, his betrothed, and Lady Sansa, his goodsister. Lady Sansa was being held by Lord Baelish for Gods only know what reason. Do you know what Littlefinger had to say about all of this?”

Panic began to set in as Cersei tried to conjure a lie that would redirect her father’s ire.

Before she could speak, Tywin continued. “Littlefinger told Tyrion that you sent a missive to the Vale indicating Brienne was suspect in Joffrey’s murder. That she was to be captured or killed if she resisted. You defied a proclamation by the king himself! You placed your soon to be goodsister in peril. Your insolence nearly cost me my legacy! Jaime now refuses to return to King’s Landing!”

“What!? He can’t do that! He was ordered to bring that beast back here!”

“In what!? A bag!? You tried to have her murdered! Now I need to go to Casterly Rock to see to it that he follows through with this wedding.”

“Littlefinger lies! I did write him, but only to see to it that Brienne was captured and returned to King’s Landing. The deal was that if Jaime refuses to wed her, she will be put on trial for Joffrey’s murder! I want justice served. How do we know Jaime won’t simply try to help her escape again!?”

“Jaime will marry this woman and you will be nowhere near it. You are staying here while I attend to matters at the Rock. You will be guarded around the clock, denied access to the rookery, and forbidden from speaking with Tommen.”

Without awaiting her reply, Tywin stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut. Sinking onto the bed, Cersei began to think through her options. She had to find a way to get Oberyn to the Rock if that was where the wedding was to be held.

A new idea came to Cersei’s mind. One even better than what was previously planned. Oberyn would get his more violent death for Tywin. Cersei would still get Myrcella back. She would still see Brienne accused and put on trial. Jaime would still die as Brienne’s champion and then Brienne would see Cersei’s to torture to death. 

Standing from her seat on the bed, Cersei walked to her table and took out two pieces of parchment and her quill. If access to the rookery was already blocked, she had another way to get word out. Qyburn. 


	8. A Chance for Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group continues west for the Rock and some discussions are had about their arrival.

They were nearly three days removed from the Crossroads Inn and Jaime’s mind was still buzzing with rage. After securing Sansa from Baelish’s grasp, Tyrion had insisted they stop to write Tywin of their whereabouts.

Tyrion feared that Baelish may write to King’s Landing, spreading false claims. Even worse, Tyrion worried they may be followed by the men from the Vale. With no one privy to their destination nor location, no one would come to their aid if they didn’t turn up at the Rock.

Jaime cared little for keeping Tywin informed as to what they did or where they went. Cersei was dead to him and if Tywin continued to indulge her, Jaime considered himself fatherless too. All he cared about was keeping Brienne safe.

Admittedly, a part of Jaime was pleased they found Sansa. For once in his life, he wanted to see an oath honored. A vow kept. He would keep the little wolf safe and they would figure out how to return her to any kin she had left.

As Tyrion had anticipated, Sansa was uneasy about Jaime’s presence. It wasn’t until the second day of their journey west that Sansa began to look at Jaime with something other than hatred. Tyrion had pulled Sansa aside and explained Jaime’s and Brienne’s journey as he understood it from Jaime’s telling.

He shared what he knew of the oath to Catelyn and the journey to King’s Landing. He shared the situation of his own trial and subsequent freedom thanks to Oberyn. He shared Tywin’s ultimatum to Jaime.

Jaime wasn’t pleased when Tyrion later admitted to sharing the last part. He didn’t want anyone to think his hand was forced to marry Brienne. He _wanted_ to marry her, even if he was too cowardly to say it to her.

Whatever Tyrion said seemed to set Sansa at ease enough to not scowl every time Jaime walked by, but he still felt himself being watched closely by the young Stark. There was something else in her gaze that Jaime couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Sansa’s eyes shifted questioningly between him and Brienne throughout the journey west _. Gods. Let her hate me or question my motives all she wants, but please don’t question Brienne_. Jaime was happy to see Sansa opening up to Brienne.

The two women spoke privately during breaks from travel and Sansa warmed up quickly to Brienne. _Who wouldn’t? She is kind and honorable and loyal._

They had just passed Riverrun but kept far enough off the River Road so as not to rouse suspicion. Coming to the Red Fork, Jaime looked around for an area to cross the river.

The river was too wide and deep for the horses which limited their options. They either pushed further south to find a bridge to cross or they would need to leave the horses behind and wade across. Appraising the current, it seemed manageable for everyone in the group.

“We could cross at Stone Mill, but we’ll lose two days going south to come back north.” Jaime looked to Tyrion who was equally dismayed at the prospect of losing more time on the road.

With a resigned sigh, Tyrion suggested an alternative. “Mayhap we could cross by boat and buy more horses from a nearby inn on the other side. I saw a couple of rowboats on the shoreline just a ways back.”

Turning to Brienne, a teasing smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “Yes, Lady Brienne is _very_ good at rowing Lannisters downstream.”

Brienne shook her head and refused to look at Jaime. “Do not start with me today.”

“I was paying you a compliment, wench. Such _strong_ arms. You could even save me from drowning if I fall in.” Jaime winked at Brienne and watched as her face flushed.

Huffing in annoyance and assessing the river before them, Brienne muttered. “You are making me regret not letting you drown.”

“That is terribly mean. Imagine how horrible you would feel if my passage in the White Book ended with ‘Died drowning in a bathtub’. I told you that is one legacy that I don’t wish to have.”

From his horse, Tyrion nearly choked on the water he was drinking. “Wait… I’m sorry, but you two were in a bathtub together? That was _not_ in your telling of the journey to King’s Landing.”

A teasing smile stretched across Jaime’s face. “Yes, it was lovely. We washed one another’s hair and talked about the merit of carrying one sword compared to two. I always thought carrying two a bit odd, but then I benefited _so much_ from Brienne carrying two. Oh yes, and when we were done bathing, Lady Brienne cradled me lovingly.”

“That is not how it happened! Clearly the fever distorted your mind and memory. I was there first and I told you there were other tubs. You just invited yourself in.”

“Wait… did ya see ‘er tits or ass? I was ignorin’ ya before, but now this is interestin’.”

Ignoring Bronn, Jaime looked at Brienne. “I had just had my hand taken off! I would have drowned. You were supposed to watch over me. Lady Catelyn’s orders.”

Brienne rolled her eyes before turning to glare at Jaime. “Lady Catelyn did not ask me to sit in a bathtub with you!”

Jaime scoffed and feigned offense. “I’m fairly certain that was part of the oath.”

“You’re insufferable. I shouldn’t have caught you.”

Jaime chuckled at her irritation. Inwardly he mused how in that moment at Harrenhal, he went from the prospect of dying in the worst way, drowning in a bathtub, to dying in the best way, in Brienne’s arms.

“If you two are about done reminiscing, we need to settle on how to cross this river.” Tyrion’s voice cut through Jaime’s thoughts. With a heavy sigh, Jaime considered their options.

“I think we should head south to Stone Mill. It’s not worth the risk of failing to procure more horses.” Begrudgingly, everyone conceded it was better than the risk of spending the rest of the journey on foot.

They rode south and made camp just at the edge of Stone Mill. Bronn and Pod were able to catch some food and they supplemented it with bread they had purchased from a small village just two days prior.

Jaime sat pressed close to Brienne around the campfire. Glancing to his left, he assessed her wounds. Her face had far less bruising than days earlier and he noticed that she didn’t limp when she put weight on her leg.

The firelight caught her eyes and made them sparkle more than usual. A part of Jaime knew he was gawking, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Brienne. Tyrion cleared his throat dramatically from across the campfire.

Looking to his younger brother, Tyrion raised a brow; his eyes wide as if to inquire what exactly he was doing. Bronn and Pod were deep in conversation, but Sansa was looking at him strangely again. _What is it with the little wolf? She looks at me like Qyburn looks at a stab wound._

Jaime looked back to the fire but couldn’t help but glance at Brienne again. They had not yet spoken of the proposal nor what to do once they arrived at the Rock.

Knowing Tywin, he would already be on his way to the Rock to ensure a wedding took place. Jaime wanted to prepare Brienne for that likelihood and ensure they had sufficient time to think of an alternative destination should she refuse to marry him. Jaime would not see her turned over to Tywin nor the crown; especially now that Jaime was privy to Cersei’s plans.

Jaime leaned in and whispered into Brienne’s ear. “Can we talk somewhere alone?” Hesitantly, Brienne agreed. Standing from where they sat, Jaime caught Tyrion’s eye; a knowing smirk spread across his brother’s face. _That smile is never good._

Brienne followed Jaime into a more secluded area of the woods. A downed tree served as a bench for them to sit and talk. Jaime sent a silent prayer to the Seven that he could get Brienne to accept his proposal.

“You should know that the problem with my father knowing our destination, is that he will likely be there or on the way when we arrive. He will want to see us married or he will take you back to the city for trial.”

Jaime glanced at Brienne and watched as her face dropped. “I know you haven’t given an answer yet, but if you don’t wish to marry me then we’ll need to think of a different destination, or I’ll need to help you flee.”

Brienne was impossible to read. Despite mentally berating himself to wait for her to speak, Jaime couldn’t help himself and tried to reason with her.

“We found Sansa. I think that if we marry, we can better fulfill our oath to Lady Catelyn. We could train together! Well… I’m not much of a sparring partner now I suppose. Oh, or we could try to find Arya again!”

Jaime searched Brienne’s face, but she gave away nothing. With a heavy sigh, Brienne looked back in the direction of the camp. “I don’t think you’re considering the long-term implications of this. I appreciate what you’re sacrificing to keep me alive, but don’t you want love and a family?”

Jaime felt his heart race at the words. Jaime knew that if Tyrion was there, he would have been screaming at Jaime to be honest about his feelings, but he couldn’t. He feared the rejection. He knew he wasn’t good enough for Brienne. He worried that he might scare her away from the protection their marriage provided her. If she decided to flee, he couldn’t keep her safe.

Considering her question, Jaime again avoided being entirely honest. “People of noble birth rarely get to make a love match. Look at the Starks! Ned and Catelyn didn’t love each other at first, but they grew to.”

Brienne’s face fell at Jaime’s words. “I’m not… that is not the same.”

“Why not?”

The look Brienne gave Jaime made it abundantly clear that his question was beyond idiotic. “There wasn’t anything _off_ with Lady Catelyn.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at her words. “What do you mean?”

Brienne grumbled and looked away again before speaking. “I know what I am. I know what I… look like. You can’t come to love someone such as me. No one could. I can’t ask you to give up on love and a family purely to keep me alive.”

“You’re wrong.” Jaime’s tone was harsher than he intended. Taking a steadying breath, Jaime tried a different approach. “Do you know why I joined the Kingsguard?”

Brienne’s brows knitted in confusion at the question. “You wanted to be like Ser Arthur Dayne.”

With a light chuckle, Jaime shook his head. “I wanted to be like Ser Arthur, but I didn’t join the Kingsguard because of him. I would have been content without the white cloak.”

Searching for an answer, Brienne shook her head. “I don’t know then.”

“Cersei told me to. She said it was the only way we could be together. Cersei thought she would marry Rhaegar. I was _supposed_ to wed Lysa Tully. Gods, could you have imagined.” Jaime’s face crinkled in disgust at the thought. He laughed and looked to Brienne, but she wasn’t laughing.

“I didn’t realize it at the time or mayhap I didn’t want to admit it, but Cersei wanted me to join the Kingsguard so that I could take no other and so she could control me. I _thought_ I loved her. I _thought_ she loved me. Trust me, I’ve had opportunities to leave the Kingsguard.”

At his words, Brienne’s eyes went wide. “The Kingsguard serves for life.”

“Unless dismissed by the crown. I was given the chance to leave after Aerys, but I stayed for Cersei. I was given the chance when I returned to King’s Landing with one hand, but I stayed for Cersei. I was given the chance after Tyrion was freed, and I left for you. I won’t regret marrying you.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide in shock at his words. She sat staring at him for what felt like an eternity before looking to the ground. Jaime felt as though his heart was in her hands. It was as close as he could come to a love confession without outright saying the words. If she still wouldn’t accept his proposal, Jaime knew that he would keep that love hidden until the Stranger took him.

“Alright. Thank you… for saving me.” 

Jaime felt like he could breathe again. A smile spread across his face as he nodded happily. “Good. It would have been awkward if I had to knock you unconscious at the Sept and prop you up while Tyrion impersonated your voice for the vows bit.”

Brienne snorted and shook her head. Standing from his seat, Jaime extended his arm to her. “Now that we are officially betrothed, you have to at least act as though you like me. Or do you prefer that I just sit around looking pretty for you.”

With a longsuffering sigh, Brienne stood up. “Can you bring down the level of insufferable just a notch?”

“You are already experiencing the lowest level of insufferable possible. I fear my lady, that it can only increase from here. You do recall our last journey through the Riverlands, yes?”

Brienne groaned at the words. “Oh Gods.” With a shared chuckle they began to walk back towards camp, but only after Jaime forced Brienne to take his arm. “I need to brace you in case you swoon from this most exciting turn of events.”

Returning to the group, Jaime felt lighter and happier than he had in years. A spark of hope had blossomed in his heart. _Mayhap if I redeem myself, she can grow to love me. She deserves someone as honorable and good as she is_.

Looking to Tyrion and Sansa, Jaime swore to himself that he would protect them as he would Brienne. He would uphold his oath to Lady Catelyn with everything he had and prove himself worthy of Brienne. _Sansa Stark is my last chance for honor_.


	9. More Wine Please

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime, Brienne, Sansa, Tyrion, Pod, and Bronn continue their way west. They stay with some vassals along the way and meet some interesting people. Sansa and Brienne get closer too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop Woop - had extra time to edit another chapter today so here you go. I hope everyone continues to stay healthy and safe during this pandemic.

They were two days out from Casterly Rock and just past Golden Tooth. Sansa felt a mix of emotions the further they made their way west. She felt relief that she was away from Baelish. Trepidation over her newfound reliance on the Lannister brothers. Fear that Tywin may attempt to take her back to the capital.

Both Jaime and Tyrion assured Sansa that they would not see her returned to the capital. Even Brienne grew bold in her assertion that such a situation would not come to pass.

Sansa took in the sights and sounds around her. Everything seemed different in the West; a stark contrast to the kingdoms she was more familiar with. Chuckling inwardly, Sansa reminded herself that technically, she was a Lannister. Technically, that should make this home.

 _But what is home if it only comes with fear and uncertainty?_ Winterfell might be cold of climate, but it was warm in heart. She was home when she was in the north. By contrast, the Lannister brothers seemed to become more golden the further west they went.

Their backs raised straighter in the saddles, their chests puffed with confidence, and their spirits lifted as they made their way down the River Road. Sansa supposed the only good to come from being in the West was the hospitality it afforded.

Gone were the nights of restless sleep on the forest floor; tucked back from the road to avoid enemies or threats. Once they entered the lands of the West, Jaime and Tyrion sought shelter from their vassals. Last night, the had stayed with the Lady Lefford at Golden Tooth.

Lady Alysanne Lefford, a widow and head of House Lefford, was a pleasant host and eager to hear of word from the capital. She expressed a feeling of disconnect from Westeros and she seemed _very_ eager to have the ear of guests and not just any guests at that. The Lannister heir himself.

Sansa had to bite back a laugh at several points during the dinner as Lady Alysanne rambled on at the Lannister brothers. Jaime kept pretending to fall asleep in attempt to get Brienne to laugh.

Tyrion and Pod indulged Alysanne but Tyrion embellished or invented the most ridiculous of tales from the happenings in King’s Landing. Hearing his fabrications and the subsequent excited reaction they drew from Lady Alysanne, Sansa felt her body overflowing with mirth. It had been so long since she laughed and truly enjoyed herself.

It seemed Tyrion could always find a way to make her feel better. From time to time, Tyrion would look to Sansa and wink conspiratorially as though they were sharing in a private joke.

And then there was Bronn. _By the Gods what is wrong with the man?_ Bronn spent much of the time trying to woo Lady Alysanne in the most inappropriate of ways. He made it no secret that he liked the look of her castle. Whether Alysanne realized his interest was more in the castle than her, Sansa could not tell.

Now as they continued their ride towards Sarsfield, Sansa looked about her group. Bronn and Pod trailed at the rear, humming and singing contentedly as they took in the sights of the mountainous terrain.

From time to time, Bronn would tell some godsawful joke or a bawdy tale of his time with a whore. For his part, Pod would chuckle politely or return to singing so as not to encourage Bronn’s crass words.

Tyrion rode beside Sansa and droned on about how awful last night’s dinner was. As was the case last night, Sansa enjoyed the ease of conversation that came from being with Tyrion. He was witty and intelligent; challenging Sansa every step of the way.

Jaime and Brienne rode ahead. Their interaction took on a familiar pattern. Jaime would needle Brienne until he got the reaction he wanted. Like a child poking at an adult for attention, Jaime couldn’t leave Brienne be for more than a minute.

Sansa mused how awful it must have been for Brienne to escort the man back to King’s Landing on her mother’s orders. Like Tyrion, Jaime had a sharp wit, but Jaime was more juvenile in his approach. But there was something else there. Something Sansa had been observing since they left the Crossroads Inn.

 _Jaime is in love with Brienne_. At first, Sansa was shocked by Jaime’s mere presence and response to Cersei’s missive. _Everyone knows he got three bastards on his own sister, but aren’t they lovers?_ Then Tyrion shared what he knew of Jaime’s and Brienne’s time in the Riverlands.

It made little sense to Sansa. _How can a man such as the Kingslayer protect an enemy as he protected Brienne?_ She watched them closely for days and it hit her like a pile of bricks to the head. _He loves Brienne. Not Cersei_.

The larger question in Sansa’s mind was whether his feelings were reciprocated. She had been in Brienne’s acquaintance for barely a fortnight, but Sansa learned quickly that Brienne was not much of a talker. It was evident that Brienne was loyal to a fault and staunchly honorable, but also shy and lacking confidence in herself where it didn’t concern fighting.

Brienne was not an attractive woman. She was unusually tall and lean, lacking the more sensual curves of her sex. Her lips were a touch too large for her face and her hair was cropped short like a man. She did have the most stunning eyes though.

Sansa was shocked to learn that Brienne was of noble birth. _What father would allow his daughter to play at knight and serve as sworn sword to another noble?_ At the thought, Sansa briefly considered her own father and his indulgence in Arya’s boyish tendencies. _Arya. Gods how I wish I could hear her annoying voice again_.

Sansa’s thoughts were interrupted by Jaime and Brienne going at it again.

“No!” Sansa could see Brienne’s ears flush red as she spoke definitively.

“So, is that a ‘no’ then?”

“Yes, that is a ‘no’.” Brienne’s tone was heavy with vexation.

“Not even a little?”

“What part of ‘no’ are you not understanding?” Sansa chuckled as Brienne’s head snapped to Jaime and her face scrunched in frustration as though he was the biggest dolt she ever encountered.

“Only the ‘no’ part.”

Without responding further, Brienne huffed and looked back to the road before her. Sansa watched as Jaime chuckled and kept his eyes on Brienne. Even from her position, Sansa could see the soft, fond expression on his face.

 _It certainly seems Jaime isn’t put out by this arranged marriage_. Sansa resolved that she would ask Brienne of it when they next stopped. It was a situation Sansa knew all too well. An arranged marriage with a Lannister. What Tywin wanted, Tywin got.

 _Tyrion wanted this marriage little more than I did. Jaime on the other hand is quite eager to wed his bride. For both of their sake, I do hope Brienne feels the same._ Loathe as she was to admit it, Sansa was still the tender, romantic at heart.

The world had been cruel to her in recent years and she learned many harsh lesson, but try as she might, Sansa couldn’t entirely rid herself of girlish fantasies. The part of her that believed in dashing princes and shining knights in armor coming to rescue the maiden was still there.

When Tyrion told Sansa what Jaime did to keep Brienne safe on the journey south, Sansa felt something tug at her heart that she thought lost. The fact that Jaime Lannister of all people reminded Sansa of the hopeless romantic, locked away in her heart only made it feel all the more believable.

Surely if they can come together against all odds and find love, there is hope for me. I can recover from this pain and abuse. I can build a new home. A new family. It won’t replace my family that I lost, but I don’t need to be fated to a lonely life with no loved ones at my side.

They rested briefly for lunch and Sansa found a private moment with Brienne. As they sat together on a grassy patch, Sansa leaned in and whispered. “So, we are to be goodsisters. It will be nice having you close.”

Brienne smiled warmly. “Yes, I’m pleased to be in a position to shield your back.” With a warm smile and hand to Brienne’s arm, Sansa clarified. “I appreciate that, but I would prefer we be equals. I don’t know if I will ever see Arya again. I should like to have some family that I can count on. Preferably someone _not_ Tywin nor Cersei.”

Brienne nodded in understanding and looked to the men laughing loudly by the horses. “Tyrion seems a good man. Kind and honest. I know he might not have been your choice, but he seems to care for you.”

 _Here it is_. “Well, I can say the same for you. Ser Jaime seems _very_ fond of you.” Sansa watched as Brienne’s face flushed and she looked to the ground. “He is giving up a lot to keep me safe. I’ll never be able to repay him for it.”

“Keep you safe? You think he does you a favor? I don’t know. He seems more than eager to marry you.” A knowing smile spread across Sansa’s face, but Brienne’s lips pressed firmly into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“We have an understanding. His father said…”

Sansa cut Brienne off quickly. “I know what his father said. I’m talking about what he _wants_.”

“My lady…”

“Sansa. Please, call me Sansa.”

“Sansa, Ser Jaime is a good man, but he wants someone he can love and start a family with. I can’t give him that.”

“Do you not love him?”

Sansa watched as Brienne swallowed thickly and looked away; her face blushing. _She does love him. Thank the Gods_. “I am not someone that a man could love.”

Sansa snorted at her side. “Why not!? I’ve only known you a fortnight, but you strike me as someone very capable of giving and receiving love.”

“You’re very kind to say that, but I’ve been betrothed before. Three times to be exact.” Brienne’s words caught Sansa by surprise. _Three? By the Gods, why isn’t she married?_

“My father even tried hosting a ball to make me a match. Brienne the Beauty they called me; a great jape. I learned quite early what I am and what I can never be. Loved is not something I will be in this life, but I hope to make myself useful in other ways. I will protect you as I would have your mother. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect her at the Twins.”

Sansa’s brows furrowed and she felt a pang of sympathy for the woman. _How can she not see it? Jaime loves her. I can see it and I’ve only been around them a short time._

Considering her next words, Sansa took a deep breath and met Brienne’s eyes. “I can’t begin to imagine what you must have endured in trying to make a match before, but perhaps others were too blind to see what Ser Jaime does. He looks at you as I hope to be looked at someday. Just look a little closer. Listen more intently. It’s there.”

They rode throughout the remainder of the day until they arrived at Sarsfield. Tyrion indicated they would be at Casterly Rock at this time on the morrow.

As was the case with other vassals in the West, their hosts were eager to please their liege lord. Lord Melwyn and his wife, Shierle, had the staff prepare a wonderful meal for their group. Like the other vassals, they were eager to hear news from King’s Landing.

Unlike other vassals who were busy brownnosing the know Lannisters of their group, the Sarsfields took a keen interest in Pod, Bronn, and Brienne; particularly Brienne. The houses in the West knew of Tyrion’s marriage to Sansa, but no one had heard of Jaime’s betrothal and it had yet to come up in their travels.

Lady Sarsfield eyed Brienne throughout dinner. Her brows knitted together in distaste and Sansa could tell that Brienne had noticed. Brienne shifted uncomfortably under the woman’s scrutinizing gaze and barely touched her food.

When eventually Lady Sarsfield could not resist any longer, she spoke. “Well I dare say that I’ve never seen a woman like you before. Where are you from?”

Brienne’s ears reddened slightly at the question. The lady’s tone was laced with thinly veiled disgust.

“Tarth, my lady.”

“Tarth? I’ve never heard of it.” The lady of the house exchanged a look with her lord husband who only offered a small shrug.

“It’s in the Stormlands. It’s not a terribly significant holding. Just an island in the Narrow Sea.” Brienne’s nervousness clung to her words. It was obvious to Sansa that Brienne was more accustomed to being looked over rather than spoken to.

With a sideways glance to her husband before sipping her wine, Lady Shierle muttered loudly under her breath. “I imagine not.”

Putting her wine back on the table, the lady of the house spoke again. “I imagine your father has many sons if he allows you to be traipsing about the countryside as you are.”

“I’m his only living heir.”

“Gods, the poor thing. How very unfortunate. Hopefully he is young enough to make a new heir.”

 _Who says something like that!?_ Sansa watch as rage flashed in Jaime’s eyes. Brienne forced a smile, but Sansa could see the hurt in her eyes. Something unsettled Sansa about Brienne’s expression. She seemed unsurprised by the woman’s comments.

It struck Sansa how much a part of Brienne’s life this type of commentary must be. Sansa’s conversation with Brienne from earlier in the day replayed in her mind.

With a sneer befitting a Lannister, Jaime spoke through gritted teeth. “It is quite unfortunate for Lord Tarth that he doesn’t have another heir as incredible as Lady Brienne given my betrothed will be rather occupied in her role as Lady of the Rock. It will be difficult for Lady Brienne to oversee both the Rock _and_ Tarth, but I suppose if anyone can manage such a feat, it would be her. No matter though, I look forward to having plenty of heirs for my goodfather to select from when it comes time to discuss inheritance of Tarth.” 

The Sarsfields paled at Jaime’s words. Sansa tried to cover her smile as she watched their panic set in. _Yes, you idiots. You just insulted your soon to be liege lady_.

Lord Melwyn stammered a reply as his wife sat frozen in place “Lord Jaime, our congratulations. Word had not reached us of your betrothal.”

“Was word necessary to ensure guests are treated courteously? I will not have the West known for its verbal abuse of women anymore than I would allow for physical abuse.”

Jaime’s words caught Sansa by surprise. A newfound respect for her goodbrother bloomed.

From his side, Brienne leaned in and whispered. Sansa could barely hear the words but watching Brienne’s lips move she knew what was said. ‘It’s alright. Let it go.’

“No, it is not alright.” Jaime spoke the words while continuing to hold his gaze on the Sarsfields.

At Sansa’s side, Tyrion cleared his throat and rubbed his belly. “Well this was most delightful, but I am feeling rather full. Mayhap a walk in the gardens would be nice?”

Sansa was eager to escape the tension of the room, but she also wanted to see Jaime tear their hosts to shreds. Bronn leaned back and crossed his arms. “Nah. This is just getting’ interestin’.”

Shaken from whatever stupor she was in, Shierle looked to Brienne. “I meant no offense, my lady. I’m certain you can _hardly_ fault my surprise.”

 _Nope. Wrong thing to say_.

“Yes, of course.” Brienne’s words were in striking contrast to her physical presence. They were small and timid. Sansa couldn’t believe how someone so strong and confident with a sword in hand, could be so diffident in conversation.

Jaime looked wide-eyed at Brienne before turning to Shierle. His brow raised daringly. “Truly? Which part is surprising? From where I sit, _your_ surprise is the only thing surprising about the matter.” Jaime would not drop the topic and Sansa loved him all the more for it. _Good. Let this fool woman ruin her house further_.

Brienne leaned over to say something to Jaime again, but when their eyes locked, she stopped any protest she intended to give.

Stammering for a reply, Shierle looked to her husband for aid, but he offered none. Melwyn’s eyes implored her to hold her tongue, but the message was not received.

“I just mean, that she is hardly someone that would earn a match on look. It is not meant offensively. I am certain she has… other merits. Mayhap Tarth can bring favorable trade routes to the West.” The dolt woman smiled placatingly at Brienne.

Jaime’s chest swelled with barely concealed rage. Sansa mused that if ever a man had transformed into his house sigil, it was this moment. In a speech that Tywin himself would cower under, Jaime spoke commandingly to the woman.

“I believe what you mean to say, is that someone the caliber of Lady Brienne would hardly need to earn a match on look alone. She has far more to offer than her looks, which by the way I find _more_ than pleasing. She also has far more to offer than vapid creatures of court such as yourself, who know little more than how to host a tea party or lift your skirts. Lady Brienne is to be your liege lady. You would be best served to remember that or I may forget to send aid the next time you get into a petty squabble with the neighboring houses. I seem to recall the last time your house called on the Rock, it was to mediate with Clegane’s Keep, who by the way will find themselves unable to bother you further thanks to Lady Brienne. She defeated the Hound in singlehanded combat just a fortnight ago. Pray tell, what did you do with your time a fortnight ago other than spout utter drivel at the first person within earshot?”

Melwyn gaped and blinked rapidly in shock. Looking between his wife and Jaime, he spoke urgently. “My lord. My lady. I apologize for my wife’s words. She forgets herself.”

Jaime looked to Melwyn, a blank expression on his face. “You need not apologize for your wife. She speaks for you no more than you speak for her. I am not my father. I believe a woman leads a household as much as a man. I judge you both equally.”

_By the Seven. Do I actually like my goodbrother? I think I do._

All sound and movement around the table ceased. Even Bronn sat wide-eyed looking at the scene before him. Jaime reached for the wine jug in the middle of the table and looked to Brienne, a warm smile on his face.

“More wine, my love?”


	10. The Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group arrives at the Rock. Brienne isn't prepared for the welcome she receives.

As the horses made their way into the Lion’s Mouth of Casterly Rock, Brienne felt her jaw go slack. _Gods. This makes King’s Landing look like a cottage_. Looking to Sansa, Brienne saw a similar expression on her face. When their eyes met, they both bit back a laugh. _All of Tarth could live here_. 

Brienne craned her neck up to see the towering cavern they passed through _. Gods, even I feel short next to this_. Looking forward, Brienne rubbed her neck and marveled at the sheer size of it.

“Now you know how I feel when I look at you and Jaime.” Tyrion’s voice teased from beside her and Brienne could do little more than chuckle. She had grown fond of the younger Lannister brother. He was witty, kind, and caring. He also seemed a wonderful brother to Jaime.

Throughout the journey, Tyrion quelled Jaime’s impulsiveness and offered an ear for Jaime’s concerns. The trip would have been more challenging without him, of that Brienne was certain.

Moving forward, they made their way towards the keep. Brienne tried to commit the path to memory. _I could get lost here. They’ll never find me_.

“Is it as impressive as my charming disposition?” At the sound of Jaime’s voice, Brienne instinctively rolled her eyes. “It’s as large as your ego.”

“My ego before or after our fight on the bridge?”

“Definitely _after_. If we’re talking _before_ , I fear no castle could compare.”

Jaime snorted and looked to her. His eyes sparkled with mirth and the edges crinkled. Brienne began to feel the familiar flutter in her stomach whenever their eyes met. The last fortnight had done little to aid her self-preservation. She tried to tell herself to withdraw from him. To protect her heart. She couldn’t.

Jaime’s words and behavior continued to torture her. He treated her as though she was something to be cherished. His actions were that of a man with genuine care and desire to wed. Brienne’s mind knew such a thing could never be true and her interpretation of his gestures was nothing more than the feeble desires of maiden’s heart. She was at war with herself. Her mind and heart dueling convictions. 

_Could he ever grow to love someone like me? Could he see past my ugliness?_

It felt silly to be thinking such things as they made their way through the impressive fortification that was Casterly Rock. The voice of Septa Roelle echoed in her mind. _‘You’ll find the truth in your looking glass, not the tongues of men’_.

Looking at the Lannister banners adorning the walls and the impressive architecture surrounding her, Brienne chastised herself for spending even a moment over the past few days thinking she had a chance to see a day when Jaime Lannister loved her.

 _The beauty of this castle parallels him. I would only tarnish it as I tarnish him. I am not fit to sit at his side here. Only the castle’s size befits me_.

They approached the keep and Brienne observed a line of people awaited them outside. Dismounting their horses, the group made their way forward as attendants took their things. It was immediately apparent who Genna was. Jaime and Tyrion had spoken of their aunt on the journey west.

Tyrion described Genna as a force rivaling that of Tywin but bearing a heart where only a stone sat in their father’s chest. The brothers moved to her quickly, playfully pushing the other to get to Genna first. “Favorite first!” Jaime shoved Tyrion with his hip, but Tyrion hit him hard in the leg. “Beauty first!”

Genna threw out her arms and pulled them both in. “My boys! Took you long enough!” As Genna greeted Jaime and Tyrion, the rest of their party stood back slightly. Brienne saw Sansa smiling warmly at the sight before her. _I do hope she and Tyrion grow into love. They are good together_.

Looking back the Lannister pride, Brienne began to worry at the family’s reaction to her. The older woman tugged at Jaime’s ear, lowering his head to her so she could speak in a whisper. Suddenly, both looked back to her.

Genna’s left brow raised and her lips pursed together. Grabbing Jaime by the arm, she dragged him to her. Tilting her chin up in a way that reminded Brienne too much of Cersei, Genna took full appraisal of Brienne.

“So, this is the one, is it?” At Genna’s words, Jaime swallowed thickly and laughed nervously. _Gods, he must be mortified_. Brienne began to fidget with the hem of her jerkin which was fitted tightly to her lean body. Oathkeeper was strapped to her hip and offered a degree of emotional protection as her armor remained packed with the rest of her things.

Before Brienne or Jaime could respond, Genna’s attention was caught by a high-pitched laugh. Tyrion was already regaling some young women with raucous stories. Sansa elbowed Brienne slightly to get her attention as the Lannisters were distracted by Tyrion. As Brienne met her eyes, Sansa nodded. “Hold your head high. You’re fine.”

Something about the young woman’s words hit Brienne. She knew Sansa was trying to help, but the fact that it was necessary spoke volumes. _I shouldn’t be here. Disappointment would be a kind word for what they’ll feel. Jaime deserves better than this. Better than me._

Genna and Jaime quickly turned back to her and Brienne felt her heart quicken. “So, you must be Lady Brienne.”

“Yes, my lady” Brienne forced a small smile as she met Genna’s green hues.

“It wasn’t a question. We have much to discuss.”

Turning to Sansa, Genna smiled warmly. “Hello, Sansa. It is good to see you again. I wish we had longer at the wedding, but lets be honest, neither of us wanted to be there. Hopefully Tyrion is winning you over. He’s a good one.”

Sansa returned Genna’s smile and looked back to Tyrion carrying on with his kin. “He has saved me in various ways and on multiple occasions. I’m very lucky to have him.”

Tyrion walked over with the two you women he had been carrying on with moments earlier. “Janei and Joy, you remember Sansa?” The young women smiled at Sansa and curtseyed which Sansa returned. _Oh no. Not curtseying_.

Tyrion then directed them to Brienne. “This is Lady Brienne, she is…”

“Oh, we know who she is. Uncle Tywin sent word.” _Ah, cousins_. They eyed her curiously and Brienne couldn’t help but feel like a mythical creature in a children’s fable. Some freak to be gawked at.

“Hello. It’s nice to meet you both.” Brienne forced another smile that went unreturned. Her stomach dropped slightly as they were quickly ushered down the line by Tyrion to meet Pod and Bronn.

Glancing at Jaime, she saw the confusion on his face. _I’ve ruined his homecoming._ Leaning in, Jaime whispered to her. “I’m sorry. They’re not usually like this.”

 _Yes, well you’re not usually bringing home someone like me to introduce as your betrothed_. With a shrug, Brienne stuffed down the discomfort. “It’s fine.”

Brienne looked back to his cousins, his brows knitted together in bewilderment. Genna soon directed them all inside and had the staff following along with their things. The keep was overwhelming on the inside as it was outside. The ceilings were high and the entryway was wide enough for a small army. Rooms lined each side of the entrance and Brienne prayed to the Seven she would be afforded a map.

Genna gave them an overview of the castle as they ascended the steps to the second level. Jaime stood close at Brienne’s side and quietly spoke over Genna’s history with what Brienne knew to be false, absurd versions of its history.

At the top of the stairs, Genna turned left down what she described as the family wing. Casting a look over her shoulder to Jaime, she raised a brow. “I trust you can find your room where you left it.”

Jaime snorted and nodded. “I think I can manage.”

Looking at Sansa and Tyrion, Genna smiled. “You’re married now Tyrion, so you’ll have a proper room this visit.”

Tyrion guffawed and looked at Jaime teasingly. “Be nice and I’ll let you enjoy the view at sunset.” As Genna pushed open the doors to a room, Brienne felt her breath catch. A massive balcony overlooked the ocean and had an amazing breeze coming through. The view was spectacular. It reminded Brienne of Tarth and her father. A sad longing for the familiarity of her own kin and island hit her.

Looking around the room, Brienne observed how overly adorned in Lannister crimson and gold it was. A bed befitting a king himself was against one wall and covered in more pillows than Brienne had seen in her entire life. There was a smaller room off to the side with a large tub and another balcony.

Genna directed the staff to set down Sansa’s and Tryion’s belongings. A chaise lounge was set in the corner near the balcony. Brienne could overhear Tyrion teasing Sansa. “Ah good. Just like King’s Landing, I’ll have my usual perch for the night.”

The pair exchanged a private laugh as the staff quickly moved in their belongings. Sansa leaned in and whispered with a warm smile. “I think the bed is large enough for our group. I think we can manage you occupying it with me.”

Brienne smiled inwardly at the soft smiles the pair exchanged one another. Genna looked at Sansa and Tyrion in consideration. “Why don’t you two freshen up. Dinner is just at sunset, so don’t dawdle.”

Tyrion bowed mockingly and pursed his lips. “As you command your Grace.”

With a loud huff, Genna rolled her eyes and urged the rest of them out of the room. Bronn looked devastated to be leaving the luxurious space, but eager to see his own. They moved back towards the stairs and across to the other wing.

“Bronn and Podrick, your rooms will be right down this way on the left.” They walked the length of another hall until they could proceed no further. Genna opened the doors to the two adjacent rooms and directed the staff to set their things inside.

Similar to the room Sansa and Tyrion had been placed in, the rooms were large, airy, and offering gorgeous views. The rooms faced north so they would not see the sunset, but it was hardly necessary. Brienne had never seen such impressive guest quarters.

With wide eyes, Bronn and Pod moved into their respective rooms. While Genna spoke to Pod, Jaime leaned against the doorframe of Bronn’s room and raised a brow. “No whores, Bronn. My father will have your head when he arrives if he catches one in here.”

“Ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me!? They ladies would go nuts for this view. It would get me laid ten times over. Ya really are a spoiled cunt.”

Jaime snickered and looked to Brienne. She wondered if she would be placed near Bronn and Pod. By the Seven, please don’t let me be near Bronn. If he sneaks a woman in, I don’t want to hear it.

Giving the men the same stern reminder about dinner, Genna moved away from the rooms and looked to Brienne. “Alright girl. Your turn.”

Jaime raised his brow teasingly and fell into step beside Brienne as Genna led the way. Genna passed the turnoff for the stairs and continued walking down a long hallway. Jaime’s brows furrowed in confusion as he looked behind them. “Where are we going?”

Genna didn’t look back but spoke curtly. “Brienne’s assigned room.” Glancing around, Jaime’s confusion deepened. “Uh…. I know it has been _many_ years since I visited, but we’re headed in the direction of the staff’s quarters.”

Without looking back, Genna spoke stiffly. “Yes, well we let someone go last week, so a room became available.”

They came to a halt before a door that was slightly ajar. Genna pushed it open to reveal a small room that seemed more like a closet. It lacked a window, but it offered a reasonably sized bed in the corner. The staff moved in quickly with Brienne’s armor; her only belongings beside what she wore.

Genna looked to Brienne expectantly as she stood back to allow Brienne through. Offering an appreciative smile, Brienne went to move inside, but Jaime grabbed her arm. “What the fuck is this Genna? Stop playing games.”

Narrowing her eyes at Jaime, Genna tilted her head. “She is your betrothed. _Not_ your wife. She can’t stay in the family wing, Jaime. It isn’t decent.”

Brienne moved to enter the room, but Jaime pulled her back towards him. “It’s fine. It has everything I need. Thank you.”

“My betrothed Genna. _Not_ my attendant. You will not put her with the staff. Give her a proper room.” Genna’s eyes flashed with something that Brienne couldn’t read.

Sensing the tension and not wanting to cause more of an issue than her sheer existence already had, Brienne spoke soothingly to Jaime. “Truly, I don’t mind. The room is fine.”

Jaime glared at his aunt and tuned out Brienne words. Speaking to one of the attendants, he barked at them to grab Brienne’s things. They staff looked apprehensively between Jaime and Genna, uncertain whose command to follow.

When they lingered too long for Jaime’s liking, he snarled at them. “Genna _Frey_ is not Lady of the Rock. The woman at my side will be. Get her things _now_.”

Dragging Brienne down the hallway, Brienne looked to Jaime in shock. “Please, this isn’t worth it. The room is perfectly acceptable. I don’t need anything more than it.”

Halting their progress, Jaime stared at Brienne. His eyes looked wounded and he sighed deeply. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with my family. They are usually the only ones aside from Tyrion who I don’t want to see thrown off the very cliffs we now stand atop. I will not have them insult you. If they do, they will be the ones in that shit room.”

Glancing back at Genna, Brienne saw an amused smile on her face as the staff scurried to catch up with Jaime. Grabbing Brienne’s hand, Jaime tugged her along towards the family wing. Passing by the stairs, he turned left and down the opposite direction from Tyrion’s room. They passed several rooms until they came to one on the right.

Shoving the door open, Jaime moved inside quickly and looked back to ensure the attendants had followed them. Instructing them where to set Brienne’s things, Brienne looked around the room. It was smaller than Tyrion’s and Sansa’s but still unnecessarily large.

There was an impressive balcony that overlooked the ocean and a smaller room to the side with a tub. The bed was a good size, but smaller than those in the guest quarters. Something about the room struck her as odd though. It looked like it had been lived in before by a child.

Appraising the items in the room, it hit her. This is Jaime’s childhood room. There were small wooden swords in one corner that looked chipped from what Brienne imagined were bedtime battles with Tyrion or Cersei. One corner of the room had a chest that had children’s toys in it.

Some wooden toy knights and toy horses were piled high as well as some other toys. There were also children’s books and scrolls scattered throughout. Brienne picked up one of the wooden knights and raised a knowing brow at Jaime.

He bit back a smile and shrugged. “What? You never had little tourneys in your room at night?” Brienne snickered and tapped the knight in her hand while appraising the rest of the room. It was adorned with Lannister banners and a banner of Ser Arthur Dayne’s house. _Such a boy_.

“Wench, careful! That’s Ser Duncan and you’re giving him a headache. He has to compete tonight.”

“Ser Duncan? That is not Ser Duncan.” Brienne laughed and shook her head as she looked at the the wooden knight.

All the knights looked to have been painted by a child’s hand. Each had different house colors and sigils; many of which Brienne knew as famous knights from the Stormlands, the Reach, and the West.

“Of course, it is!” Jaime grabbed the knight from her hand and spoke to it. “I’m sorry, Ser Duncan. She has no respect for you.”

“The shield is wrong. That isn’t Ser Duncan.” Brienne snorted and looked at the other little wooden knights in the chest. She crouched down and pulled out two more.

“What do you mean the shield is wrong?”

“It’s missing the falling star.”

“What?” Jaime studied the shield and shook his head. “His sigil was this tree.”

Brienne chuckled and looked at the other knights. “No, Ser Duncan’s sigil has a falling star over the tree.”

“How would you know?”

“Because his shield is at Evenfall.” Brienne’s tone was laced with indifference as though it was the most natural statement to be made.

Jaime stood hoovering over her; his head cocked as if trying to decode a riddle. “What? You have Ser Duncan’s shield on Tarth!? How did your family come by it?”

“Well it was easy to come by considering it was passed down.”

“Passed down?”

“He’s my great-grandfather. I think I would know better than you what his shield looked like.”

Jaime dropped to his knees beside her as she riffled through the other wooden knights. Dropping the toy knight and grabbing Brienne’s arm, Jaime forced eye contact with her.

“You’re related to Ser Duncan the Tall!?”

“Do you need proof? Is my height not enough?” Brienne rolled her eyes and went back to the chest of toy knights. “I can see you have little love for knights of the Vale, Riverlands, and North.”

Jaime looked at her in awe. “I always thought they were far less impressive than the knights from the Stormlands.”

“I hate to interrupt playtime, but I need to have words with your betrothed.” Jaime’s and Brienne’s heads snapped to see Genna standing in the doorway with a knowing smile on her face.

Dread pooled in Brienne’s stomach. Standing from the floor, Brienne straightened her clothing and took a step forward. Her progress was halted by Jaime’s hand at her hip.

The fingers of his left hand curled into her as he moved close behind her back. He spoke wearily to his aunt from behind her. “What do you need her for?”

Genna tilted her head and rolled her eyes. “Gods Jaime, I won’t harm her. Can’t I have a talk with my soon-to-be goodniece?”

Moving to Brienne’s right side while keeping his left hand firmly at her left hip, Jaime grit his teeth and spat at his aunt. “I seem to recall you having already been given the opportunity and you chose to stick her in a fucking closet instead.”

Ignoring Jaime, Genna looked to Brienne and spoke in a tone that brokered no argument. “Come girl. I’ll return you to your betrothed soon enough.”

Trying to ease the tension in the room, Brienne turned to Jaime and raised a teasing brow. “Mayhap you can fix the shield while I’m gone.” Brienne watched as Jaime’s facial muscles relax. A small smile tugged at his lips as he grabbed her hand. Raising it to his lips, Jaime placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles without taking his eyes off her.

Brienne’s heart quickened at the feel of his lips on her skin. She felt her face flush slightly and she became momentarily distracted by his warm gaze. Genna cleared her throat loudly from the doorway and caught their attention. Stepping away, Brienne followed the stout woman into the hallway and back towards the stairs.

Genna did not engage Brienne the entire walk. They made their way in silence down the staircase and towards a door just off to the right at the base of the stairs. Stepping to the side for Brienne to enter the room, Genna pointed to a seat and shut the door behind them.

The room appeared to be a small study. There was a desk in the middle with chairs on each side. Large shelves adorned one wall; lined with books of varying age and size. Taking the offered seat, Brienne sat down and began to fidget slightly.

Genna moved around the table and pulled out the chair on the other side. Upon sitting down, the woman studied Brienne closely. Her brows knitted together in concentration as Brienne shifted under her gaze.

“My nephew has successfully avoided his father’s attempts to see him wed for more years than you’ve likely been alive. Jaime has always done things that he didn’t want in order to appease family, but marriage was _never_ one of those things.”

Brienne could feel the air in the room thickening. She braced herself for the reminder of what she was and what she could never be. Genna slid a missive across the table to Brienne. Tentatively picking it up, Brienne read the missive.

_Genna,_

_Jaime and Tyrion are making their way to Casterly Rock. They have with them Sansa Lannister and Jaime’s betrothed, Brienne Tarth. Jaime has finally come to his senses and picked his bride. I care little for whether this girl fancies him. Cersei wants her head and I’m prepared to give it to her if she refuses to wed Jaime. Do not aid her should she attempt to flee._

_I will depart from King’s Landing when you confirm their arrival. I’ve informed Lord Tarth that their wedding will be in near a moon’s turn. Have the seamstresses make the girl a proper dress. I will not have her sully our family name by showing up in something ridiculous as she wore to Joffrey’s wedding. I particularly don’t want her walking around in that armor Jaime had made for her. She is to be a proper lady now._

_Tywin_

Brienne’s eyes went wide as she finished reading the missive.

Genna snorted. “I could hardly believe it myself until I saw Jaime today. At first, I just assumed Jaime’s plan was to help you escape. To make a show of it to my brother, knowing it would enable him to get to you first. It is not out of Jaime’s character to protect someone he believes innocent, but…” Genna looked to the wall of books, her eyes narrowed in consideration.

Shaking her head, Genna looked back to Brienne. “It’s no matter. That boy means far too much to me. I won’t see him marry someone who isn’t worthy of him.”

Brienne felt her face redden in guilt and embarrassment as she looked to her lap. 

“Do you think yourself worthy of him?”

Brienne’s eyes met Genna’s briefly before falling to her lap. “No, my lady.”

“Then why are you doing this? To save yourself? Surely you can handle Cersei on your own. I won’t see my nephew's heart toyed with. I won't see him in a marriage of unrequited love, merely so my brother gets his way and you get to keep your head. Jaime deserves more than that. He won't recover from this sham, I know it!”

Muttering more to herself than Genna, Brienne replied. “I told him as much myself.”

Genna crossed her arms and glared. “So it is unrequited then.”

With a bitter laugh, Brienne looked away. “How could it not be?”

Genna’s face was flush with rage. “Is this funny to you girl? I hardly find this amusing. My nephew’s heart is no jape.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide. “I apologize, my lady. I am not japing at Jaime’s expense; only my own. I only meant that I’m aware my love would never be returned. I told Jaime the same as you… that he deserves a wife who he can love. Someone who would not bring him shame. I will depart at once. I am very sorry for all of this.”

Moving to stand, Brienne’s progress was halted by Genna’s commanding voice. “Sit!”

Slowly lowering herself into the chair, Brienne felt panic set in. _She won’t let me leave. Tywin won’t allow it._

“What did you say? _Your_ love unreturned? _He_ deserves someone he loves?” Genna’s eyes narrowed at her. Something akin to confusion flickered across her face.

“I mean to say that I agree with you. I know he couldn’t love someone like me. He is a good man. He deserves better than being saddled with the likes of me. I did not realize Lord Tywin wanted him wed _that_ badly.”

Genna stood abruptly from her seat and began pacing. Running a hand through her golden locks, she looked to Brienne in bafflement.

“You’ve told him all this then?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“And what did he tell you?”

“That he wouldn’t regret marrying me. He means save me of course. I think he hopes that one day he could grow to love me, but I think we both know that is wishful thinking.”

Genna moved close to Brienne and hoovered over her. Her eyes were piercing as she held Brienne's gaze. "Don't lie to me girl. Tell me true. Do you love my nephew?"

Brienne felt a lump form in her throat. She felt the blush spread from her face down to her neck. Too mortified and ashamed to answer, she looked away and nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Genna pinched the bridge of her nose. "Have you told him then?"

Brienne shook her head in denial. _How could I tell him such a thing? It would do no good. It would only embarrass us both._

Genna grunted in vexation and tapped her foot. Moving quickly to the door, she opened it and shouted for an attendant. _What is she doing? Mayhap they will throw me out?_

An attendant scurried over and bowed stiffly. “Yes, my lady?”

“Go get Tyrion from his room. Hurry up about it.” At Genna’s command, the young man bowed again, running into the hallway and up the stairs.

Genna slammed the door and began muttering to herself. “Ridiculous children. Are they both mute, blind, or merely ignorant?”

“I’m sorry my lady, are you talking to me?” Brienne’s brows knitted in confusion.

Seemingly forgetting Brienne was in the room, Genna startled slightly and looked at her. “You’ve known my nephew how long?”

Looking to the ceiling as she calculated, Brienne spoke uncertainly. “A year or so.”

“Do you two dolts actually talk, or do you just stare at each other longingly?” Genna’s words caught Brienne off-guard. _What?_ Before Brienne could reply, a knock came at the door. Genna huffed and pulled it open to reveal Tyrion.

“Aunt Genna. You beckoned.” Tyrion looked between Genna and Brienne; a curious look flashed across his face. Yanking Tyrion by the ear, Genna threw him into a chair beside Brienne.

“Tyrion, what is the matter with your brother and his betrothed? Do they speak to one another or just pine away all day?” _What is she on about? I don’t understand_. Genna’s entire attitude towards Brienne seemed to shift from one moment to the next. She was afraid to speak or move.

Tyrion snorted and looked to Brienne. With an apologetic shrug, he chuckled before looking back to his aunt. “You know how Jaime can be. I’ve been trying, I swear it. And this one talks even less.”

Genna gave Tyrion a pointed look. “Gods. Just what we needed. A female version of him in both interests and communication style. Fix this, Tryion. Idiots… the both of them.”

Abruptly, Genna stood from her seat and smiled warmly at Brienne. “Dinner is at sunset. Don’t dawdle! And stop slouching girl. A woman of your stature and skill should stand tall and proud. Lions don’t cower. You’ll do well to remember that.”


	11. Dinner and Dresses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After speaking with Genna, Brienne is sent to prepare for dinner. Jaime is irritated with his aunt's behavior towards Brienne and tries to figure out what is going on.

Jaime sat on the bed nervously awaiting Brienne’s return. It felt to Jaime as though he had been waiting a fortnight for Brienne’s return to the room. _What does my aunt want with her? Why are they being so cruel? Is Brienne alright?_

Abruptly, the door opened, and Brienne stepped in. Her brows were furrowed in bewilderment, but she didn’t look hurt or offended.

Jaime stood up quickly in greeting and smiled at the sight of her. Loose strands of her hair fell forward into her face and brushed lightly against her cheekbone. Jaime had to fight the urge to tuck it behind her ear as he moved to stand before her.

“Did you have fun with my aunt?” _Was she decent towards you?_ Jaime could feel the worry set in his features as he studied her face in search for truth that her words may betray.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely certain what to make of it.” Brienne’s eyes darted to the doorway. She bit down on her lower lip and Jaime found he couldn’t take his eyes off the action. _I would like to bite on her lip. Nope. Stop. Don’t pursue that line of thinking._

“Oh… and your father is likely to be on his way soon. It seems he intends to see this wedding happen with the next moon turn.” Brienne’s eyes flitted nervously to Jaime. His eyes widened slightly in consideration at how quickly his father called for the wedding.

While Jaime knew his father would make his way to the Rock, he had not anticipated such a short period of time until the wedding. Lannister weddings were garish affairs and typically required more planning than a moon’s turn. _Well good. Hopefully it won’t be too overwhelming then_.

Looking back at Brienne, Jaime noted the concern writ across her face. “Are you certain about this. Truly? I understand if you’ve changed your mind. I can fight for my freedom. I’ll request a trial by combat.”

Brienne avoided Jaime’s eyes at the question. The small tremor in her voice made Jaime worry that perhaps Genna had treated her unkindly.

As she looked to the floor, the hair that had fallen to her cheek hung down further and covered her eyes. Jaime couldn’t resist any longer and tucked the hair behind her ear. He was surprised at how soft her hair felt between his fingers. The feel of her skin as he brushed past her cheek to her ear was warm and smooth.

Jaime felt like his fingers were on fire where he touched her. His fingers lingered longer at the side of her face than decency would permit. Jaime’s reply came out huskily; the searing touch to her skin drying every bit of moisture from his mouth. “I’m certain.”

Before he could speak further, Tyrion came marching into his room. “Ah, brother. There you are.” At the unexpected presence, Jaime jumped back slightly. Tyrion had a sly smile on his face and looked about the room nonchalantly; his hands clasped behind his back.

“I imagine neither of you have bathed yet. I told the attendants to bring up water. Well… I hope you don’t mind, but it will need to be individual this time. Our tubs here won’t afford the space for two as Harrenhal did.” Tyrion’s eyes danced with mischief at the words. 

“Lady Brienne, my aunt is sending up some clothing for you. She noticed you didn’t have anything other than what is on your person.”

Jaime looked to Brienne and watched as her nose crinkled in distaste. “Gods. Is she sending up a dress?”

“I could hardly say. As you can tell, that concern is more my father’s.” Tyrion shared a conspiratorial look with Brienne who cringed at the words. _What are they on about?_

“Brother. Why don’t you let Lady Brienne have her bath first? Surely, she can manage on her own. She seems the more capable between the two of you.” Attendants moved quickly into the room with the promised items; water and clothing.

 _Is that a dress? How many clothes do they have?_ Brienne seemed to observe the same. Her body went rigid as she tried to appraise the garments that passed by. A young woman with sewing materials followed at the rear.

“Lady Brienne? My name is Alyane. I’ll tend to you after the bath so we can get your clothes hemmed quickly.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide. “Oh. Um, I can just wear what I have. It’s quite alright.”

With a chuckle and shake of her head, Alyane met Brienne’s eyes. “I quite like having my head atop my shoulders, so if you don’t mind…” Alyane gestured back towards the garments as she set her things down.

Biting back a laugh, Jaime looked to Brienne. “I trust you’ll be too occupied to go riffling through more of my things.” Jaime’s tone was light and teasing. Any discomfort Brienne felt was quickly replaced by irritation. “I hardly went rifling. You should keep your room tidier.”

“I haven’t been home since I was four and ten. It’s likely that I left it clean, but my nosey little brother here snuck in to play with things.” Looking to the impatient seamstress, Jaime inclined his head and teased. “Now you best cooperate, my lady. I would hate for you to not have enough time to get your clothing hemmed. We don’t want a repeat of Harrenhal’s dress.”

To save time, Tyrion and Sansa let Jaime use their bath as they opted to go for a walk in the gardens. The attendants had clothing brought up for Jaime that Genna deemed acceptable. _Crimson. How original_. Jaime finished dressing in his provided brown breeches, tunic, and leather crimson jerkin.

Walking back towards his room, Jaime heard voices inside. He knocked lightly and waited for permission to enter. Walking in, he saw a less than pleased looking Brienne being fussed over by the seamstress. The woman was finishing up the final touches on the bottom of the dress. _A dress. She must be livid_.

Appraising her, Jaime felt his heart quicken. Genna had the seamstress put Brienne in a deep blue dress that was tightly fitted to the body. Unlike dresses of court that flared out below the hips like a ballgown, this dress remained tight against the body while allowing enough room for Brienne to move.

The style showed off Brienne’s incredibly lean body and, surprisingly, womanly curves. Brienne didn’t have the obvious curves of most women, but she had curves nonetheless.

Jaime remembered seeing Brienne naked in the baths. The memory made a frequent appearance in his dreams and daydreams, but Jaime was so accustomed to seeing Brienne in her poorly fitted men’s clothing that it was easy to forget how incredible her body was.

Unlike the dress at Harrenhal, this color brought out her eyes and looked stunning in contrast to her pale skin. The sun was just starting to set and with her back to the balcony, the fading sunlight cast a striking outline of her body.

Brienne’s hair was still wet from her bath and hung loosely by her chin rather than brushed back in its usual style. Jaime’s mind began to wander past the point of polite.

Before his problem became too obvious, he averted his eyes and sat on the bed. _Gods. If it takes years to get her to fall in love with me, it will be torturous wanting her like this. What if it takes a lifetime?_

Looking up to meet her eyes, Brienne scowled. Her tone was laced with discomfort. “Do not mock me, please. Just… please.”

Jaime threw up his hands in mock surrender. “I didn’t say anything!”

The seamstress finished her work and stood back to appraise the dress. With a slight shrug, she met Brienne’s eyes. “Now that I have your measurements, I’ll have the rest brought up on the morrow. The attendants will drop off some bedclothes while you’re at dinner.”

Jaime could see Brienne was uncomfortable. She gripped her hands tightly; causing her knuckles to turn white. Meeting the woman’s eyes, Brienne muttered her thanks.

As the woman curtseyed to them both and left the room, Jaime stood from the bed and approached Brienne. He smiled widely at the sight of her.

Brienne took a step back and narrowed her eyes. “I said don’t. Please. I’m not very hungry. I think I might stay up here.”

Removing any mirth from his eyes that might be misconstrued as jape, Jaime grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Blue is a good color on you, my lady. It goes well with your eyes.”

With an irritated huff, Brienne looked away. “You don’t need to do that. I know what I look like.”

“Don’t do what? Be honest? I would never lie to you, Brienne.” Jaime held her eyes as he spoke, but her gaze narrowed in warning. Shaking her head, she looked away. Jaime instantly hated the emotional distance.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s chin with his left hand and forced her to meet his eyes. “Don’t believe me? Fine. Ask me any question you want. I’ll tell you the truth.”

Brienne considered his words. Her brow raised and an amused smile spread across her face. “Do you think you’re better than me with a sword?”

Jaime chuckled and shrugged. “Well right now, even Pod would best me. When I had two hands… yes. I was better.” Jaime spoke the last words confidently and watched as Brienne smirked. 

“Do you think your aunt hates me?” Brienne’s voice dropped slightly at the question. Loathe as Jaime was to admit it, he had wondered the same and it hurt. He didn’t understand why Genna had been so cruel to Brienne.

With a heavy sigh, Jaime met her eyes. “Yes, although I don’t know why. She is being cruel for no reason. I’ve never known her to be like this. She is acting like…” _Cersei_.

Jaime stopped short, afraid to speak his sister’s name.

“You can say her name. You shouldn’t try to pretend she doesn’t exist or that she won’t always be an important part of your life. I… I know you miss her, and I understand.”

“I do not miss her...” Knowing he never wanted to be anything other than honest with Brienne, Jaime took a steadying breath and continued. “…I miss the girl she was or at least, the girl I _thought_ she once was.”

“Do you think you can ever love another as you loved her?” Brienne’s tone was inquisitive, but heavy with resignation. _She thinks it impossible_.

“No, because that was not love. I see that now. I know I can love someone properly though.”

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean that as one of _those_ questions. I don’t know why I even said that. We should get to dinner.”

“You didn’t ask me any of the important questions.”

“The important questions?”

“Such as ‘How do you think I look?’. I suppose I’ll just need to do the questions _and_ the answers since you’re so terrible at it…” Jaime smiled teasingly at Brienne. When she ceased rolling her eyes and looked back to him, Jaime spoke seriously. “You look beautiful.”

“You promised not to lie…”

Cutting Brienne off, Jaime continued. “You look beautiful to me. I don’t much care what anyone else thinks. It’s the only reasonable thing my father ever taught me. I meant what I said. Blue is a good color on you. It brings out your eyes and they’re the most beautiful that I’ve ever seen.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide in shock as she took in Jaime’s words. He half expected her to protest and half expected her to run from the room. She did neither and instead stood rooted in place; like a deer spotting an archer hiding in the thicket.

Suddenly the silence felt constricting and Jaime feared he had said too much. Exposed too much of his feelings. It felt as though Jaime was holding his heart out to her. When she didn’t move to take it and tuck it away safely, he withdrew and downplayed the sentiment. “Well… for whatever it’s worth. Lets go.” 

“Thank you… if it’s true, of course. If it not, thank you anyway.” Brienne offered a small smile and began to move towards the door. Reaching for the handle, she startled when Jaime’s hand covered hers. The action felt strangely familiar to their dinner with Roose when Jaime placed his hand atop Brienne’s.

 _Hopefully she doesn’t want to stab anyone tonight; although I would hardly blame her_.

“I meant it. I said I would not lie to you.” Removing Brienne’s hand from the door, Jaime placed it on his right arm and proceeded to pull the door open with his left. His tone became lighter as he spoke again. “Now you must let me be courtly, my betrothed. Although, I thought I was meant to be the one sitting there looking pretty. You’re stealing my only other move.”

Brienne snorted and rolled her eyes. Moving from the room, the pair made their way downstairs. The walk to the hall for supper was quick, but to Jaime it felt an eternity. His mind raced with things he longed to say. Kisses he wanted to place.

When he eventually reached for the door to the dining hall, Jaime took a deep breath and met Brienne’s eyes. “If you want to leave at any point, just let me know. These dinners can be as pleasant as a conversation with a Clegane.”

The hall was already occupied by the rest of their party, Genna, Uncle Emmon, and Jaime’s cousins. Two chairs had been left unoccupied near Genna who sat at the head of the table. Pulling back the chair to his left for Brienne, Jaime helped her get seated.

As he sat down, Jaime saw Genna appraise Brienne approvingly. “You clean up nicely. That dress is well fitted indeed.”

Brienne smiled politely and thanked Genna before her attention was captured by Sansa who sat to her left.

Leaning over to speak to his aunt, Jaime whispered for only Genna’s ears. “You made her uncomfortable. She doesn’t like dresses.”

Genna scoffed and waved at him dismissively. “Hush boy. Your father wanted dresses made for her. I figured she would prefer breeches and tunics given what she wore to Joff’s wedding, so I had those made too. She can wear them on the morrow. I was even going to give her breeches for tonight, but then I thought…” Genna smiled and raised a suggestive brow at Jaime. As Jaime’s ear reddened, Genna chuckled and sipped her wine.

“Come now, Jaime. Do you think me blind? You can thank me later.” Genna sat back and picked up her wine. She took another look at Brienne and smiled knowingly.

Mercifully, dinner was short as most of their group was weary from a fortnight of travel. Jaime leaned towards Genna as dinner ended. He couldn’t find rest until he spoke to her.

“I would have words with you before retiring for the night.” At Jaime’s words, Genna rolled her eyes. “Yes, I imagined you would.”

Turning to his left, Jaime placed a warm hand on Brienne’s back and leaned into her ear. “I need to speak with my aunt briefly. I’ll meet you upstairs?”

With a nod of the head, Brienne returned to her conversation with Sansa. At his right, Genna stood to leave and Jaime moved to follow. The rest of the group looked relieved that their host was headed out and seemed eager to retire themselves.

Before he followed Genna, Jaime asked Tyrion to walk Brienne back to his room before retiring with Sansa. “Yes, yes. I’ll ensure your lady knight doesn’t get lost.”

Tyrion’s tone was teasing, but Jaime could tell from the look in his brother’s eyes that he would ensure Brienne was comfortable.

Jaime stepped into the hallway and saw Genna standing by the base of the stairs. She looked as tired as Jaime felt. With a heavy sigh, Genna nodded to the study and Jaime made to follow. As they entered, he immediately rounded on his aunt.

“Why did you and the girls treat Brienne like shit? She didn’t deserve your cruelty!” Jaime tried to control his anger, but he could hardly believe that his aunt of all people had treated Brienne so poorly.

“Take a breath and have a seat, Jaime.” Genna paced around the desk to take a seat opposite him. She sat back and rubbed at her forehead. “I misinterpreted a letter from your father. I thought she was taking advantage of your love as a means to avoid Cersei’s wrath. I thought your father was also using your love for the girl to force a marriage that would yield you little more than unrequited love. I want more for you than that! You deserve happiness, Jaime.”

“Why would you think that!? You had never met her, and father has never been able to force me where marriage is concerned. This is my choice.”

“Alright, alright. I see that now. I meant the girl no ill will. I just didn’t want to see you hurt or your affections used. You’ve had more than enough of that behavior in your life.” Genna offered a knowing look and Jaime shrank back in his seat.

Genna had always knows about Cersei. For years she tried to get Jaime to see reason, but to no avail. He was a fool in love and let Cersei use him for her selfish gains. This was different though and Jaime knew it. Brienne couldn’t be more unlike Cersei if she tried. She is good and honest and loving and loyal.

“You tried to have her stay in the staff’s quarters!”

“Oh, I just wanted to test you. I wanted to see if you truly felt something for the girl or if you meant to do a friend a kindness. If the latter, I knew you wouldn’t have put up such a fuss. Although honestly, by that point I hardly needed to do that. Your feelings were writ across your face when you introduced me to her.”

Jaime scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. _Gods, am I that obvious?_

“Oh, don’t pout Jaime. Now you tell me something Jaime Lannister. Why haven’t you told this girl of your feelings for her?”

“Not this now. Just leave it Aunt Genna.” Standing from his chair, Jaime walked to the door and glanced back. “Just be nice to her. She has been through enough. She doesn’t need to deal with more shit from this family.”

Slipping back into his room, Jaime saw the outline of Brienne under the furs. She lay on her left side facing the balcony. The moonlight shone in from the balcony and cast long shadows along the floor.

Removing his false hand, jerkin, boots, and breeches, Jaime moved towards the bed in his tunic and smallclothes. At his approach, Brienne looked over her shoulder and smiled tiredly.

“I thought I was going to have to call half the household staff to figure out how to get you out of that dress.” Jaime stared at her back and teased her, hoping she would turn around and give him the reaction he craved.

“Sansa figured it out, thank the gods. I nearly fell off the balcony trying to wrestle out of it.”

Jaime snorted and studied her exposed shoulders. The seamstress had left Brienne what appeared to be a long sleeping gown with small straps at the shoulder. Jaime rarely caught a glimpse of Brienne’s exposed neck and shoulders, but in this lighting, she seemed to glow. A smile tugged at his lips and he shifted closer.

“Are you wearing _another_ dress, wench?”

Brienne turned over in a huff and glared. _There it is_. Jaime playfully lifted the furs to try and see what she was wearing, but Brienne grabbed the covers and pulled them down.

“Stop it. You’re enjoying my misery far too much.”

Chuckling, Jaime pulled down the covers and Brienne was exposed to her midriff. “Wench, it is a dress!”

“It’s a nightdress. Leave me alone.”

“How long is it?” Jaime lifted the covers more, but Brienne snatched them out and scowled.

“Behave. I’m trying to sleep.”

Pulling the furs back and forth, Jaime couldn’t stop laughing at her indignation. The tug of war went on for some time until Brienne gave a final hard tug.

Jaime was caught off guard and found himself pulled forward by Brienne's strength; his body landing on top of her. His stump reached out for purchase to the right of her head and his flesh hand which still gripped the sheets, reached out at Brienne’s other side. His body was half atop her and they both went still at the unexpected position. At the force of Jaime toppling onto her, Brienne was nearly flat on her back.

Jaime stared down at her, his laughter faded as he met her eyes. Their breathing was labored from the tug of war over the furs. From his vantage point, Jaime could see the bear scars on her left shoulder.

Jaime stared at the scars as his arm rested just above her shoulder; his stump by her neck. Memories of that time filled his mind. He thought of the resigned look in her eyes when he left. The way she called him "Ser Jaime". The shock on her face when he returned for her. _I almost lost her._

A flood of emotions hit Jaime. Without thinking, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to her scars. At his touch, Brienne stiffened and sucked in a small breath.

Jaime pulled back quickly and stammered an apology. “I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry. I just…”

Brienne’s face rivaled the crimson of his house colors. Shaking her head slightly, Brienne cut him off. “It’s alright. It was not a pleasant journey for either of us.”

Jaime settled onto his left side and reluctantly withdrew from her. He placed his stump between them and shook his head slightly, closing his eyes as reprimanded himself. _What is wrong with me?_

As he opened his eyes, Jaime looked to her. The surprise of his actions was still present on her face. “I shouldn’t have left you there with Locke. I’m sorry.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed at his words. Shifting to lay on her right side, her hand wrapped around his stump and she smiled warmly. “You came back for me when you had no reason to. You’re always rescuing me. Thank you.”

At the sight of her smile and hand wrapped around his stump, Jaime felt a warmth spread through his body. _You're my reason. I’ll always return for you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK a little fluffy chapter - returning to some bigger parts of the plot for the next few.


	12. A Wedding Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei continues to plot in King's Landing. Tywin leaves for the Rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had time to edit two chapters tonight, so I'm posting this and the next (Sansa POV).

Cersei made her way through the keep, the ever-present guards at her back. Her father departed the day prior for Casterly Rock and Cersei had just concluded a dreadful meeting with the High Sparrow. She had wasted no time setting her next plan into motion.

She couldn’t visit Tommen, but that wouldn’t stop her from speaking on the boy king’s behalf. She had decided to arm the faith militant. Her objective was clear; take out the Tyrells. Her fear of repercussions from Tywin were non-existent as he marched to his death.

Smiling to herself, Cersei replayed yesterday’s events in her mind.

“Father, may I have a word?”

With a longsuffering sigh, Tywin bid Cersei enter the study. She took her usual seat opposite him and waited until he finished his missive.

“I’m very busy. What do you want?”

“I was just coming to say that you’ve the right of it. I was thinking only of myself and not the family. I was jealous that Jaime would get to marry the woman he wants and I’m stuck marrying some godsforsaken Frey.” The words felt bitter coming out of her mouth, but the sour expression on her face worked well for the game she was playing.

Lifting his eyes to appraise her, Tywin tiled his head. “You came here to point out the obvious?”

With a sigh, Cersei shook her head. “No. I came here to warn you. It’s about Brienne. I have heard unsavory things about her. I still believe that she had a hand in Joffrey’s death, but if she marries Jaime and does her duty to our house, I will never bring it up again. That said, you should know that she may carry a bastard in her womb…”

Tywin sat back and appraised her. “The Maid of Tarth carries a bastard? You do know what a maid is, don’t you? Mayhap your proclivities throughout this keep led you to forget the concept?”

Cersei swallowed the scream threatening to escape her lips. Taking a deep breath, she reminded herself to stick to the plan.

“You know they call her the Kingslayer’s Whore, don’t you? Well I’ve heard rumors of her time in Renly’s camp. Bets on her maidenhead. I heard someone won. How do we know this woman isn’t using Jaime’s affections to get close, keep her head on her shoulders, and take us out from within? After all, she hardly concealed the fact that she was Lady Catelyn’s sworn sword. Isn’t it rather convenient that Tyrion and Jaime found her and Sansa, yet they refuse to return? They left here having agreed to bring her back to the capital. Now, they move against _your_ orders under the false claim from Baelish that I wanted her head. I only asked Baelish to see her returned her for trial.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed as he considered her words. Cersei knew that if she played this correctly, her plan would go off exceedingly well.

“All I’m saying, is that it would be in our family’s best interest to check her supposed status as a maid the day of the wedding. Once we are certain that she doesn’t have a bastard on her already and she is in fact a maid, we can feel confident in her sincerity. Take my midwife with you. I was just about to dismiss her as Margery turned her down. She has done right by me all these years. She will do right by our family at the Rock. She can check Brienne and ensure there is no babe. Check that her maidenhead is intact. Do it before the bedding to set all our minds at ease. Hopefully Jaime hasn’t already bedded her and removed the evidence. I wouldn’t put it past them to go whoring about the keep if the rumors from the Riverlands are true.”

Tywin considered her words but did not respond. “Any thing else you care to share?”

With a sigh, Cersei looked out the window. “I know that I am not allowed to attend. I understand why though it upsets me. I would however like Myrcella there to see her uncle wed. She has been away from family for far too long. I asked Oberyn if he would attend on my behalf so that Myrcella could go. It would be good for Myrcella and Trystane to be seen together by the West.”

With a heavy sigh, Tywin nodded. “I will allow it. If Myrcella and Trystane are able to depart by ship for the Rock and arrive within the fortnight, they may attend the wedding. Prince Oberyn was planning to return to Dorne anyway. He might as well stop at the Rock and attend the wedding with his nephew and soon to be goodniece. It would be good for the kingdoms to see our alliance.”

Cersei nodded her head. “Thank you.”

Standing to leave, Tywin called out commandingly. “Do not think that my allowance for this will overrule your ability to see Tommen or the mandate that guards escort you about the Keep. I will be back promptly following the wedding and then we will discuss plans for your marriage.”

Cersei felt her frustration mount, but she refused to give him the satisfaction. Her lips pursed and her brow raised as she looked back to him. Without a word, she turned back to the door and left.

Immediately following the meeting with her father, she made her way to Qyburn. Winding through the hallways of the keep, Cersei descended the steps to the level just one floor above the cells. Like Cersei, Tywin had found use for the exiled maester.

He had been given temporary residence at the keep as he carried out various orders on behalf of the crown. In return, he had been given permission to conduct his experiments on site.

Cersei had approached the maester at several points since his made his way to King’s Landing with Jaime and the cow. He was most useful in sharing detail of interactions between her brother and the beast who fancied herself a woman.

Qyburn had tended Brienne’s wounds in the Riverlands at Jaime’s insistence. He also provided insight as to the nature of the pair’s relationship; how they kept together and away from Steelshanks’ men. How they cast longing stares when the other wasn’t looking.

It was Qyburn who Cersei went to for information on Brienne. While he didn’t have as impressive a spy network as Baelish or Varys, he built a group of reliable sources quickly.

He had been able to uncover some details of Brienne’s time at Renly’s camp from some of the Stormlands forces who remained behind after Stannis’ defeat on the Blackwater. She learned of the failed bets on Brienne’s maidenhead and how she won a seat on Renly’s Rainbow Guard.

Making her way towards Qyburn’s quarters, Cersei rolled her eyes in irritation as she shadows of the guards behind her loomed near. The flickering torchlight adorning the castle walls played with their height and width as she came to stop before her destination.

With an urgent knock, Cersei stood impatiently outside Qyburn’s room. The door opened to reveal the rat-like man. “Your Grace. How are you?”

“Do you have that medicine for my headaches that I inquired about?”

With a knowing smile, Qyburn bowed and bid her enter. Cersei walked into the room and watched as Qyburn retreated to a shelf in the back corner. A fortnight ago, Cersei had approached Qyburn and asked him to replicate the poison Joffrey had been murdered with.

The man had a talent for poisons and healing tactics that Cersei had never seen the likes of. The knowledge was stored away for future use as she decided the role Qyburn would play when her father was dead, the cow and Jaime were dealt with, and Margery was out of the picture.

While Cersei’s plan likely would not call for the poison given the revision to wedding destination and subsequently, the plan, she needed a backup option should their first route fail. Looking at the vile that Qyburn returned to her with, Cersei’s eyes danced like wildfire.

“Just one drop will be more than sufficient. It works quickly and I’ve verified the solution on a _volunteer_.” The former measter handed the vile to Cersei; a satisfied smile stretching across his face.

“I need you to deliver a message to my friend. I should like to meet him in our usual spot tonight. Same hour as before.” Qyburn bowed in understanding and stepped backwards. Looking again to the vile, Cersei’s lips curled into a vicious smile.

“Thank you, Qyburn. The crown will not forget all the hard work you’ve done in recent week.” Cersei slipped out of the room and made her way back to her chambers.

Later that night, the final piece of her plan came together. Cersei made her way to the baths with her halfwit guards following faithfully behind her. Coming to stand before the door, she raised a brow at them. “I think I can manage a bath without you two staring at me.”

The guards took their position outside the door as she slipped inside. Putting down her change of clothes and towel, she unwrapped the cloak she had bunched inside the pile of linens. The baths at ground level of the keep had a balcony that opened to the yards. The blinds had been shut for privacy by the staff, but Cersei easily slipped through and made her way out in the cover of night.

Moving quickly through the gardens and back towards the beach, Cersei kept an eye out for anyone passing by. The sky was darker that night than most other recently. The heavy cloud cover during the day had yet to dissipate and afforded Cersei additional cover.

She soon arrived at the meeting spot, but Oberyn was not yet there. She paced impatiently for some time before footsteps alerted her to an approaching presence. Pushing back against the rock wall, Cersei heard the familiar hum of Oberyn’s voice; a song on his lips.

 _Fucking idiot. What if someone else heard him_. The Viper made his way down to the beach and smiled wolfishly from beneath his cloaked face. “Good evening. Beautiful night for a stroll.”

“Where were you!? I’ve been waiting and I have to get back before my idiot guards think I fell asleep in the tub.”

Oberyn sighed and turned to face her more fully. “Do you have it?”

“Of course.” Cersei produced the vile from her cloak and handed it to Oberyn.

“My father didn’t say if he would take my midwife or not. Remember, if he doesn’t, use one drop of this.”

Oberyn sighed and took the vile, placing it inside his jerkin from below the cloak. “And the rest of it?”

“He agreed. I imagine he has already sent a missive to Dorne. Don’t forget, he believes you’re to sail back to Dorne with them after the wedding. Do not forget that you must return Myrcella here.” Cersei looked around the area again, but the seas were rougher than usual and easily drowned them out.

“And how will I know the midwife?”

“She will approach you. Remember, you must use the cow’s sword; the valyrian steel that my brother gave her. The midwife knows the full plan and will signal you from the feast if things are going accordingly.”

“Why can’t I know the full plan?” Oberyn grunted in frustration. His demeanor reminded Cersei of a petulant child.

“You need only know whether to use the sword or the poison. Either way, it will be the night of the feast; not before or after.”

With a nod conveying his understanding, Oberyn moved away from the beach. Cersei smiled to herself and took a deep breath. When all of this is done, I’ll have no one left in my way. No one to force a marriage on me. No one to block me from ruling through Tommen. No cow nor broken brother to claim the West. 


	13. Full of Excuses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at Casterly Rock, wedding preparations are underway. Tyrion and Sansa have little luck with Braime, but Jaime has a lot of excuses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had time to edit two chapters tonight, so I'm posting this and the prior (Cersei POV).

The sea breeze kissed Sansa’s skin as she sat between Genna and Tyrion. They sipped tea and overlooked the training yard as Brienne and Jaime moved around one another; swords clashing together loudly.

“So, when can we expect a little cub from your two?”

Sansa felt her face flush at Genna’s words. She and Tyrion had been sharing a bed in the literal sense, but nothing more. Over the weeks, Sansa felt her feelings towards Tyrion changing from that of a friend to something deeper. Something she dare not give voice to.

A japing smile tugged at Tyrion’s lips. “Well we’re taking this in phases. Practice first, you know. First, we practiced keeping alive a plant for the past fortnight. You know the one. That shit flowerbed you had the attendants leave on our balcony. Now we’re practicing caring for that manchild over there.” Tyrion pointed out to Jaime in the distance who was currently getting beaten to a pulp by Brienne.

“The latter isn’t going as well. If we can keep him alive through this wedding, we can consider something more.” Sansa chuckled and looked to Tyrion with a warm smile. She appreciated his levity given the awkwardness of the topic.

Genna snorted and looked back to the pair in the distance. “Any progress on that front? Will we watch the union of a love match or two pining fools playing the role of political match?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and looked back to the sparring pair. Tyrion sighed heavily at her side and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Well in an exciting development last night, Jaime managed to compliment Brienne _without_ insulting her immediately afterwards. I believe he is working in phases too.”

Genna groaned and finished the last of her tea. “Seven hells! This is painful to watch. I’ll give him the day and then I’ll pull them aside and declare it for them.”

Sansa chuckled at Genna’s vehemence. With her tea finished, the older woman reached for a water pitcher in the middle of the table and poured herself a cup.

Sansa returned her attention to Jaime and Brienne. She watched as Jaime playfully wrestled Brienne to the ground after getting his sword knocked out of his hand. _Cheater_. 

It had been nearly a fortnight since they arrived at the Rock. Tywin was due to arrive within the next day or two and Genna had been occupied with wedding details.

To pass time, Sansa offered aid to Genna, Janei, and Joy in the wedding preparations. The three Lannister women had been taking on most of the coordination themselves.

For their part, Jaime and Brienne proved useless. They spent most of their time in the yards and avoiding any talk of wedding planning. Sansa mused that if the pair had it their way, they would say their vows right there in the yard with no audience, nor feast, nor formal attire.

Brienne knocked Jaime to his ass once more, eliciting a loud groan from Jaime who dramatically threw out his arms in mock death.

“Stab him and put him out of his misery already!” Genna shouted out to Brienne who stood smiling victoriously down at Jaime. Jaime eventually stood and dusted himself off. A wide smile spread across his face as he made a comment that earned a glare from Brienne.

As the pair made their way over, Genna sighed. “Now we get to watch another pathetic display of longing stares and childish flirting.”

Jaime plopped down next to Genna and reached for her water cup as he breathed heavily from his workout. Genna yelled at her insolent nephew; her eyes wide in shock. “That’s my water!”

Jaime smiled and feigned ignorance as he drank most of it in one sip. Sweat dripped off his short hair and face as he dumped the rest of the water onto his head to cool off.

Shaking his head aggressively, a mix of water and sweat sprayed onto all of them except for Brienne who knowingly stood back before sitting.

“Jaime! What is wrong you with! That is disgusting!” Genna reprimanded Jaime and swatted him hard on the chest. Sansa’s nose crinkled in disgust as she wiped her face with a handkerchief that Tyrion handed her.

Throwing his arms up in feigned innocent, Jaime raised his brows and huffed. “What? It’s hot.” Brienne sat down in the remaining vacant chair at the table. She was nowhere near as fatigued and sweaty as Jaime was. Turning towards her, Jaime’s eyes went soft as he smiled.

 _Gods. This truly is painful to watch_. As usual, Brienne was oblivious to Jaime’s attention. She looked back to watch Bronn and Pod continue training in the yards; a proud expression on her face as Pod landed a decent strike.

Sansa smiled inwardly as Jaime pouted from the lack of attention. He hooked his feet around the legs of Brienne’s chair and tugged her closer. Brienne startled at the motion and looked to him in shock. “What are you doing?”

“I need to dry off.” Jaime grabbed her arm and used her tunic to wipe the rest of the moisture from his brow.

“Stop! That is disgusting!” Brienne punched him hard in the arm. Her jaw clenched in anger and her face was flush with rage. With a chuckle, Jaime recoiled as Brienne swatted him again. “Do that again and I’ll run you through my sword.”

“I love it when you get violent.” Jaime teased and braced himself for another hit, but Brienne kicked his chair instead, sending him backwards to the ground.

Genna guffawed and looked down at her nephew as he rolled on the grass melodramatically. “I like your betrothed more by the day.”

Standing upright and brushing himself off, Jaime dragged his chair back over and placed it unnecessarily close to Brienne. Flopping down with a grunt, he leaned against her and pouted. “My head hurts. Kiss it better.”

Sansa watched with great amusement as Brienne tried and failed to maintain her feigned annoyance. The corner of her lips twitched slightly as Jaime kept draping himself over her. As playful as Jaime could be, there was always an undercurrent of genuine desire for physical closeness.

He never seemed content until seated beside Brienne; his arm and thigh pressed closely against hers. As though on instinct, Jaime would lean towards Brienne when she spoke or perk up when he heard her voice.

Sansa found it endearing to watch the innocence of their relationship. Each pined for the other, but neither would admit their feelings aloud. Despite that, there was an intimacy to their interactions. Both afforded the other physical allowances that no one else would dare receive.

Genna’s voice cut through Sansa’s observations. “Now listen, your father will be here soon. You better not be in Brienne’s room when that happens!”

The day after they arrived, Genna assigned Brienne the room next to Jaime’s. Every night, Jaime found an excuse to be in Brienne’s room. Every morning, Genna rolled her eyes and reminded Jaime how improper it was, yet she made no effort to enforce their separation.

In the fortnight they had been around Genna, it was obvious to Sansa that the older woman would do anything to see her nephews happy; Jaime in particular. She let him get away with things that anyone else would find themselves in the cells for.

“What? I don’t know what you mean.”

With an exacerbated look, Genna sat back and crossed her arms. Her eyes locked on Jaime. “Where did you sleep last night?”

“A bed.”

“You’re not half as clever as you think you are. I saw you creeping out of Brienne’s room this morning.”

“I wasn’t creeping. I was returning to my room quietly so as not to wake anyone. I had to kill a spider in Brienne’s room. She was petrified and it was the chivalrous thing to do.”

“What!?” Brienne looked at Jaime as though he had declared her short in stature.

“The spider. You were practically in tears and screaming in fear. I couldn’t sleep. Very inconsiderate of you.”

“You came over last night saying your room was too cold.”

“Huh. I don’t recall that happening at all.”

“Yes, and the night before, you came over claiming your room was too narrow. That it was disorienting.”

“I think you’re disoriented. Did you take a tourney sword to the head?”

“And the night before that, you came over complaining that your room wasn’t wenchish enough.”

Sansa and Tyrion guffawed at the pair before them. Jaime sat back and crossed his arms; a burgeoning smile spreading across his face.

“Are you drunk? Truly Brienne, I’m worried about you. You’ve been hanging around Tyrion too much.”

“No, that was you near a week ago. You stumbled into my room saying that your room was spinning too much. You puked in my chamber pot.”

Sansa crinkled her nose at the memory. The night Brienne mentioned played out in her mind. It began enjoyable enough. The four of them sat out on the veranda after Bronn and Pod had taken off for Lannisport; both men eager to ‘experience the culture’ as Bronn put it.

Tyrion and Jaime gave Brienne and Sansa a tour of the wine stores in the lower levels of the keep. It was a massive maze of corridors; all serving different purposes. The brothers eagerly riffled through Tywin’s ‘special vintage’ and pulled out bottles of wine that Tyrion spent the better part of the hour discussing the winemaking production of.

Sansa had never laughed so much in her life as she did that night. The brothers were fun to be around as they played off each other. They constantly tried to one up the other and the drunker they became, the more asinine they grew. The night culminated in Jaime and Tyrion having a race down the stairwell on shields.

Tyrion insisted his smaller stature would make for less wind resistance and propel him along faster. Jaime insisted that his advantage in weight would move him down the stairs more rapidly.

Taking shields from the armory, Tyrion and Jaime positioned themselves at the top of the massive, main staircase. They wore helms from the armory which Tryion insisted was imperative to ensure the protection of his brain and Jaime’s beautiful face.

Of course, they also needed to wield wooden swords from Jaime’s room. What Jaime had not considered was how difficult it would be to remain on his shield while using his only flesh hand to jab his sword into Tyrion’s side.

The pair only made it halfway down on the shields before falling off; Jaime from the lack of grip and Tyrion from the sword to the ribs. Both brothers ended up rolling the rest of the way down and pooling in a heap of limbs at the bottom. Their helms hung half off their heads as Genna came storming out from her room to investigate the commotion.

Sansa had never imagined Brienne the type to retreat in battle, but she abandoned both brothers immediately at the sight of Genna. Retreating to her room quickly, Brienne laughed loudly and didn’t look back. Sansa had taken off after her and hidden with Brienne in her room until the storm that was Genna passed.

Sitting back in the courtyard, Sansa covered her smile as the memory faded away. Genna’s voice cut through her thoughts again as she narrowed in on Jaime.

“You’ll have the rest of your life to share a room with Brienne. Leave her be! Your father will not be pleased if he shows up to find you half naked in the bed of an unwed noblewoman who is meant to become Lady of the Rock.”

“Who says I’m half naked? That’s awfully generous of you. I sleep best in my nameday suit. I’m just trying to ensure Brienne’s comfort. What if she needs something in the middle of the night? She confuses easily and this is a big castle. I don’t want her getting lost and accidently wandering straight off a cliff.”

With a resigned sigh, Genna stood from her seat. “I have things to tend to. Someone needs to lead this castle since a certain heir is too busy spending his days sparring and pining away.”

Sansa choked on her tea and looked to Jaime. His ears were red and his eyes implored Genna to drop the subject. With a knowing chuckle, Genna walked away; waving over her should at their group.

Kicking Tyrion’s foot under the table, Sansa raised her brow. She watched as understanding washed over Tyrion’s featured and he cleared his throat. They had discussed the opportunity earlier that morning and now seemed as good a time as any.

“Brother. Walk with me. I was hoping you could help me sort through some things.” At Tyrion’s words, Jaime’s eyes crinkled in confusion. Before moving, Jaime’s eyes darted to Brienne who was busy watching Pod and Bronn sparring again.

With a slight nod, Jaime stood from his seat. Brienne looked up at the movement and moved her feet under her chair to allow Jaime to pass. As the men walked out of earshot, Sansa moved to where Jaime had been sitting.

“So, the wedding is in a couple of days. Are you excited?”

Brienne’s face fell slightly at the question. “No. I don’t like being the center of attention. I’m better suited to stand to the side.”

“Jaime will be with you the entire time. I’m certain that will help.”

With a heavy sigh, Brienne looked in the direction the men had walked and shrugged.

Sansa leaned in conspiratorially. “Has he kissed you yet?”

Brienne’s eyes went wide and she shook her head vehemently. “Oh no. No, it isn’t like that. He is just a good friend. I can see that now… what you said. He does care for me. He is kind to me.”

 _Gods help me. This one_. “Brienne… I’m sorry, but if he didn’t feel more for you than friendship, he wouldn’t be coming up with such ridiculous excuses to stay in your room. He wouldn’t practically sit on your lap every time you’re together. He wouldn’t look at you like you’re the only person in the room.”

A deep blush spread across Brienne’s face. She began to fidget with the hem of her jerkin and look around their table as though expecting someone to jump out from the bushes and reveal the jape.

Sansa and Tyrion had the same objective in their planned meetings with the betrothed couple. Help the pair see how the other expressed their love without saying the words. Encourage them to have an honest conversation before the wedding.

Placing a warm hand on Brienne’s arm, Sansa met her to-be-goodsister’s eyes. “I miss my mother terribly, but the best gift she left me with was you. She didn’t realize it at the time, but she gave me someone who would become my friend first and my family second. Loathe as I am to admit it… I quite like your betrothed too. You two make a wonderful pair. I want to see you both happy and I think you would be able to enjoy your wedding so much more if you went into it honestly. It is obvious to everyone that you love one another. I’ve seen enough false love to know when it rings true.”

Later that night when Sansa lay in bed beside Tyrion, she turned and met his eyes. “How did your talk go?”

Tyrion chuckled and shook his head. “My idiot brother is afraid to ruin their friendship. Afraid any confession before the wedding will send her running. His plan instead is to love her from afar and hope that someday she will feel the same way.”

Sansa grunted in irritation. “This can’t be real. One of them has to break first. Are they going to spend the rest of their lives like this?”

“I take it you had no luck then?”

Sansa guffawed. “At least Jaime verbally responded to you. The leaves made more sound than Brienne did.”

Tyrion sighed and rolled to his side, a teasing smile on his face. “What if they’re messing with all of us and secretly fucking every night. Taking their sparring from the yards to the bedroom.”

Playing into the jape, Sansa turned to face Tyrion; learning up on her arm to mirror him. “Mayhap they’ll announce she is pregnant at the wedding.”

With a loud laugh, Tyrion flopped onto his back. “My father’s head would explode. My aunt would kick us out of this room so that she could start work on a nursery at once.”

Sansa threw back her head and chuckled at the thought. Reaching for Tyrion’s hand, she squeezed it tightly. “We can do this Tyrion. We will get them to confess if it kills us. I just want to smash their lips together… not that I can easily reach that high to push their heads together.”

Tyrion smile widely and looked to the ceiling. “I don’t want to be anywhere near their room when they finally figure it out. I fear the emotional trauma to anyone in earshot. The fuck that was promised.”

Sansa snorted and locked eyes with Tyrion. “The fuck that was promised.”

The next day, Sansa awoke in Tyrion’s arms. Light poured in from the balcony and the bustle of the castle staff pushed away the last vestiges of sleep. The sound of feet running up and down the hallway caught her attention. _What is going on? What hour is it?_

Genna’s voice came thundering down the hallway. “Get Jaime out of that room now!”

 _Oh fuck. Tywin is here_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know that they would say "bang" in Westeros, so I went ahead and changed TBTWP to TFTWP. Whatever... I'm going with it. It's a thing now for Sanrion.


	14. Head of the Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin arrives at the crack of dawn and things don't get off to a smooth start. Another guest arrives for the wedding.

Tywin sat at the head of the table, tapping a finger impatiently. To his right, Jaime and Brienne sat together with their heads bowed, staring intently at their plates. To Tywin’s left, Sansa and Tyrion sat together and looked towards the door nervously. Abruptly, the door opened and Genna walked in at a casual pace.

Taking a seat opposite Tywin at the small table, she smiled smugly at her brother. “How good of you to arrive at the crack of dawn and still expect a full welcome party at the front door.”

Jaime glanced to his aunt and chuckled inwardly at her boldness. She was the only one who ever got away with giving Tywin shit.

Tywin’s lips pressed into a firm line as he shook his head. “I did not get this family to where it is today by lounging about in bed at all hours of the morning. If this is how the Rock is being run, it is a good thing I’m here now. Are the rest of the guests settled and breaking their fast in the main hall?”

With a false smile that dripped with sarcasm, Genna met Tywin’s gaze and spoke curtly. “I could hardly say where I put them; although Emmon is playing host in his nightclothes. I was still rubbing the sleep from my eyes when you barreled through the door. You forget, the sun rises later in the west than the east.”

Tywin exhaled loudly and looked to Jaime before locking eyes with Genna again. “What of the wedding preparations? I expect everything will be ready to proceed in two days’ time.”

“Everything is ready and guests have already started arriving at Lannisport. All the vassals have replied except the Cleganes. I don’t imagine we’ll be hearing from them anytime soon.” Genna cast a knowing smile to Tyrion and Brienne. Jaime’s chest swelled with pride as he looked to Brienne.

Tywin ignored the amused glances making their way around the table. He looked to his younger sister and spoke inquisitively. “Have all the vassals accepted?”

At the question, Genna paused; her cup of tea hoovering in midair. “All but the Sarsfields. They have sent a most generous gift, but regrettably Lady Sarsfield is feeling unwell. They wish the happy couple all the best.”

Jaime couldn’t contain the guffaw that pushed past his lips. Across the table, Tyrion and Sansa barely muffled their own laughter.

“I fail to see the humor in that. If you’re to be Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden to the West, you would be best served to conduct yourself properly, Jaime.”

“Yes, of course. I would hate to be _discourteous_. I’m certain they sent a lovely gift.” Jaime smiled cuttingly at his father.

Turning his attention to Tyrion and Sansa, Tywin spoke commandingly. “Now as for you two, after the wedding, you will both return to the capital with me. By now, Sansa should have been heavy with child. We’ve lost time thanks to the escapades at Joffrey’s wedding.”

Jaime’s stomach dropped as he looked to Tyrion and Sansa. Sansa’s face paled and she shrunk in on herself. Tyrion swallowed thickly and looked to Tywin.

“I actually think it would make more sense for Sansa and me to return to Winterfell. It will be easier to control the North if we are _in_ the North.”

Tywin scoffed at Tyrion’s words and took a bite of his food. “The Boltons hold Winterfell and I will allow it until Sansa is with child. Then and only then may you leave King’s Landing to reclaim the North. They do a sufficient enough job for now. I will monitor your progress on the matter of a proper heir.”

Tyrion moved to protest; his eyes imploring. “Father, I truly believe…”

“That is all Tyrion. I did not ask for you opinion on the matter.” Tywin’s tone was crisp and brokered no argument.

The thought of his oath to Catelyn Stark and his need to prove himself to Brienne pushed to the front of Jaime’s mind. Looking across the table to Sansa, he met the young wolf’s eyes.

“They will stay here. When they’re ready to reclaim Winterfell, we will ensure it happens.” An appreciative smile spread across Sansa’s face. She nodded in acknowledgement and looked to Tywin.

Tywin’s eyes narrowed at Jaime. “They will return to King’s Landing and that is final.”

“No, they will remain here. I do not trust Cersei anymore than I trust you to ensure their best interests are considered.” At Jaime’s words, Tywin dropped silverware and glared at his eldest son. Ten shocked eyes fixed themselves on Jaime as he grabbed his tea and took a sip.

“Who are you to override my word?” Tywin’s jaw clenched and his eyes darkened, but Jaime kept a neutral expression.

Looking defiantly to his father, Jaime spoke in a most Tywin-like tone. “You wanted me to marry and take my place as your heir. I am doing that. As Lord of Casterly Rock, I will ensure my brother and goodsister are taken care of until they feel ready to reclaim Lady Sansa’s ancestral seat. I will not see them returned to the capital where their safety is at risk.”

“You are not lord of anything until the day I cease to draw breath. Why would I leave the Warden of the North in your hands when you have yet to prove yourself capable or competent in any other duties placed on you thus far. You failed as a Kinsguard. You failed as a battle commander of my forces and got captured by a boy half your age. You failed to return to King’s Landing in one piece. You fail again and again and again. Consider yourself lucky that my more intelligent children are a woman and an imp. The only thing you were ever good for was swinging a sword and now you can’t even do that. You can barely read as it is and that is thanks to my efforts!”

Memories of his childhood rushed back to Jaime. Years of Tywin belittling him and forcing him to sit for hours in the study; berating Jaime for his failure to make sense of the words. Jaime’s mind would wage a war as the letters went backwards on him. Even Tyrion mastered reading before Jaime; an embarrassment that Cersei and Tywin never let Jaime forget.

Producing a missive from his jerkin and shoving it at Jaime, Tywin barked at him. “Can you read now you dolt!? Shall you little brother pull you aside and hold your hand as you struggle to make out basic words?”

“Tywin! Enough!” Genna growled from her seat as Jaime stared at the missive before him.

“Enough!? You’re as much to blame for his incompetence. You always coddled him too much! The boy is too soft! Weak. Look at him. He spent his entire life avoiding his duties to family because he wanted to wed for _love_.” Tywin sneered as he spoke and took pause before continuing.

“I spent my entire life teaching this boy how to lead. How to manage a kingdom and defend this family. He turned his back on his kin. Went off to fulfill childish dreams in the Kingsguard only to fail the rest of the kingdoms too.”

Tyrion spoke from across the table. “Father, Jaime has tried…”

“He has not tried! He has spent his life as a glorified bodyguard. All he has done is bring this family shame. Do not even get me started on the damaging rumors of him and his sister. Now he finally decides to do what is expected of him and he has the audacity to speak to me as though he has any inclination what it takes to rule.”

Turning his attention back to Jaime, Tywin pounded the missive with his finger; his voice raised to a level Jaime rarely heard directed at him.

“Can you read!? Idiot.” 

Tywin looked back to his plate and continued eating. Jaime felt his blood boil, but he bit his tongue. At his side, Brienne stiffened.

“You’re wrong.” Brienne’s voice filled the room and Jaime watched in horror as Tywin’s face slowly looked up from his plate.

“He is far from an idiot and far from a failure. He has accomplished more in a year than most accomplish in their entire life.”

Tywin’s face was a storm and Brienne caught in the center of it. “Do you forget yourself? You are here as a courtesy as my son’s betrothed. You are no Lannister and you certainly have no place to speak out of turn.”

Brienne did not back down. The expression on her face reminded Jaime of when she slaughtered the three Stark men on the road towards King’s Landing.

“You don’t deserve him as a son if that’s how you speak to him.”

Jaime’s jaw went slack as did Genna’s. No one had ever defended Jaime so vehemently to his father nor spoken to Tywin in such a manner. Not even Genna.

There was no reasoning with Tywin when he got in moods such as this. If Jaime wasn’t so afraid for Brienne in that moment, he would have kissed her. Something long buried deep in Jaime’s heart radiated out. He felt cared for and respected. The last time he felt that way was when he heard Brienne say his name rathe than his moniker. _‘Ser Jaime.’_

Tywin dropped his fork and leaned forward. “Let me tell you something girl. If you ever dare tell me how to speak to my child, I will see to it that my son is a widower the moment my first grandbabe arrives.”

At the words, something in Jaime snapped. “If you threaten her again, I will kill you myself.”

Before Jaime knew what was happening, Tywin cracked his teacup across Jaime’s head. A sharp pain coursed through Jaime’s temple as he reached for his head and felt blood start to drip out. 

“Tywin! By the Gods, have you lost your mind!?” Genna’s heavy footsteps made their way across the room as Brienne caught Jaime to prevent his fall.

Jaime was in a daze as he righted himself. The room spun slightly, and he could see the outline of Tywin looming over both him and Brienne.

“If you ever threaten me again, the pain of losing a hand will seem like caress compared to what I will do to you. Go clean yourself up and put on proper attire. More guests will be arriving over the course of the day and I won’t have you embarrass this family more than you already have.”

Standing from his seat, Jaime swayed slightly, but Brienne and Genna were there to right him. Tywin muttered as they moved from the room. “More coddling. Absurd.”

Jaime’s vision was slightly obscured in his left eye by the blood dripping from his temple. Brienne’s right arm looped around his waist as they walked up the stairs and her left hand pressed a cloth to his temple.

Moving quickly before them, Genna barked commands at several of the attendants. She called for more cloths and water to be brought to Jaime’s room. The walk to the room seemed to stretch on forever. Jaime’s temple throbbed more with every step.

“He’s bleeding through the cloth. I need another.” Brienne’s voice was calm and matter of fact. It was enough to make Jaime chuckle. “This isn’t funny. Your father just assaulted you.”

With a slight shrug as they moved into the room, Jaime huffed. “It could have been worse.”

Genna directed Jaime to sit on the edge of the bed as attendants moved in quickly with the items requested. Taking a new cloth from the pile, Brienne swapped out the old, blood-soaked cloth in favor of a clean one.

Pressing if firmly to his temple, Brienne stood before him. Jaime’s knees knocked against the outside of Brienne’s thighs as she stood between his legs, holding his head in her hands as she kept a firm compression against the wound.

At Brienne’s side, Genna wet another cloth to remove some of the blood from Jaime’s face and neck.

Jaime sighed at the attention. “Will they bring our food up here? I hardly got to eat.”

Genna grunted in annoyance and ignored his question. “Hold still. We need to stop the bleeding first.”

“Well if I faint it is likely from hunger and not blood loss. I will need someone to pick the little shards of porcelain out from my food though.”

Appraising his head, Genna turned to Brienne. “Does he need stitches?”

Brienne removed the cloth and shrugged. “I don’t think so. Head wounds just bleed a lot. It certainly hasn’t stopped him from yammering on.”

“I am sitting right here. I can hear you.” Jaime smiled teasingly and glanced up at Brienne. She was all concentration as she again pressed the cloth firm to Jaime’s temple. Using the excuse of needing to brace himself, Jaime’s flesh hand clung to Brienne’s hip. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent as she hoovered over him.

“Am I still pretty, Brienne?”

Rolling her eyes, Brienne snorted. “If I say ‘yes’, will you shut up?”

“No.”

A brief silence filled the room and a smile spread across Jaime’s face. Seeing his expression, Brienne’s brows furrowed. “What’s so amusing now?”

“You yelled at my father.”

“I didn’t yell at him, I just… made some observations.”

Jaime guffawed and even Genna snickered at their side. Pulling back the cloth, Brienne examined the wound. Genna moved closer to inspect it too; a heavy sigh pushing past his aunt’s lips.

“You’re going to have quite the lump on your head, but the bleeding has slowed.”

“Well luckily my head is of little use. That much has been established.”

Genna grabbed Jaime’s chin and forced his eyes to hers. “None of that now! Your father was out of line. I’ll have words with him.”

Dropping her hand from his chin, Genna placed a warm hand on Brienne’s check. Jaime watched as Brienne startled slightly at the gesture. “I’ll go get your betrothed some ice. _Thank you_.” Genna’s smile was one of thanks and acceptance.

As his aunt left the room, Jaime’s brows rose and he looked to Brienne. “I think she quite likes you. Now she has another strong woman to help keep my father in line.”

With a slight shake of her head, Brienne put the cloth down and met Jaime’s eyes. “I do not like your father. He has no right to speak to you that way.”

“I’m used to it. There is no pleasing him.”

“You shouldn’t be used to that kind of abuse.”

The words struck Jaime. _Abuse? That’s just how my father and sister are. How else would they speak to me?_

Jaime sighed and teased Brienne. “So fierce, Lady Brienne. My protector.” Jaime chuckled as he watched her eyes roll back dramatically. Standing from his seated position, Jaime met Brienne’s eyes and removed any hint of jest from his tone. “Thank you for defending me. I just… I don’t want him turning his ire on you. I don’t mind taking it.”

“I will not sit by and let him belittle you like that. I will not look past cruelty such as that, just as you refused to look past the words of Lady Sarsfield.”

Jaime scoffed. “That is different. They can’t order you killed. You don’t know what my father is capable of.”

With a shrug of indifference, Brienne looked away. “I’m not afraid of your father. So what if he orders me killed.”

“I’m serious, Brienne. I can’t lose you.” Jaime’s tone was forceful yet imploring. He cupped her cheek with his flesh hand. “Please. What you said means more to me than you can imagine, but please don’t do it again.”

Brienne’s eyes moved back to him. They shone with defiance and Jaime worried there was no talking her out of coming to his aid in the future. As his thumb grazed her cheek, Jaime looked to her lips. Every part of his body screamed for him to kiss her. Implored him to show her how much she and her defense of him meant. He stood frozen as his breathing labored in anticipation and he moved closer.

Before he could close the space between their lips, Genna returned to the room. Jaime and Brienne sprang apart at the intrusion and Jaime cursed inwardly. As if realizing what she just prevented, Genna’s face sank and she groaned slightly. Muttering more to herself than them, Genna cursed under her breath. “Seven hells.”

With a forced smile, Genna looked back to pair. “Brienne, your father’s ships have just docked. The Stormlands is here.”

“Tarth came? He brought his fleet?”

Genna chuckled and shook her head. “The Stormlands, dear. It seems your father brought an army. By our lookout’s guess, the entirety of the Stormlands not currently dying in a muddy field up North with Stannis. Our spies had the right of it. Stannis rallied mostly sellswords and a handful of staunch Baratheon loyalists. Your father seems to have hold the Stormlands. It seems 3,000 strong sail at his back.”

 _Dying with Stannis? Lord Tarth brought the Stormlands?_ Jaime’s mind wandered to the missive his father shoved in his face that morning. It had said something of Stannis’ fall at Winterfell, but Jaime was too distracted to read it.

Looking to Brienne, Jaime saw the shock on her face. _Well, time to meet my goodfather. I hope he likes me more than my own father does. That should be too difficult to pull off._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes... I bumped up the timeline for Stannis' march on Winterfell. The show had it at S5 EP10. This is probably closer to S5 EP4/5. Meh... If D&D can do whatever they want... so can I.


	15. A Storm in the West

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selwyn arrives at the Rock and is ready for war.

Brienne watched as her father and a host of Stormlands forces entered the courtyard outside the Keep at Casterly Rock. It had been years since she last saw him, but little had changed.

Selwyn was as tall and broad as any man. With the Mountain dead and gone, so was any competition for largest man in Westeros. Selwyn’s short blonde hair was a striking resemblance to Brienne’s own tresses. He appeared freshly shaven and tanned from what Brienne imagined was over a fortnight at sea.

The contingent with him carried a host of sigils with Tarth leading the way. Brienne’s chest swelled at the sight of her people’s prideful postures and determined eyes. _They came for a war and if Tywin doesn’t shut his mouth, he’ll have one_.

Earlier that day, Brienne saw the stranger himself pass pass by Tywin as she contemplated the many ways she would run Oathkeeper through him, should he move to strike Jaime again. _What kind of father assaults his son like that? What kind of father belittles his son as Tywin had?_

Selwyn dismounted his horse and moved forward with a look on his face that made it clear what his intentions were. This was not a wedding. This was a rescue mission. At her side, Brienne heard Jaime mutter. “Gods he’s the size of the Wall.”

They stood lined up in greeting. Tyrion and Sansa stood to Brienne’s right. Jaime, Genna, and Tywin to her left. Looking past Jaime, Brienne glared down at Tywin. When their eyes met, she smiled viciously. _You aren’t half as impressive as you think you are. My people won’t cater to your ego_.

Ignoring convention, Selwyn marched past Tywin and towards Brienne. A sly smile tugged at his lips. “Daughter, tell me you are well or by the Seven I will kick this pebble into the sea.” Tywin’s eyes went wide at the words, but he held his tongue.

Tyrion snorted at Brienne’s side and whispered to Sansa. “I like him already.”

Pulling Brienne into a tight embrace, Selwyn ruffled her hair. He dropped his voice for her ears only. “So, is there anyone I need kill or shall I behave for now?”

Glancing to Tywin, Brienne smirked back at her father. “Not yet. We might need to fight for the honor though.” Immediately, Selwyn knew her meaning.

Selwyn appraised the rest of them before nodding to Tywin. “Tywin. I’ve not seen you in many years. When we last met, I believe your twins were still under the assumption that a chamber pot was little more than a hat.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide as Genna guffawed. The older woman stepped towards Selwyn and nodded. “Well you haven’t changed, Sel. Good to see you again.” Genna offered her hand as Selwyn gave a wink and placed a formal kiss to her knuckles.

Tywin stepped forward with an unamused expression on his face. “Yes, it has been some time. Why don’t you come inside. We have much to discuss.”

Genna ensured everyone from the Stormlands got settled into the guest wing. The attendants darted in and out of the castle carrying belongings to rooms.

Jaime leaned into Brienne’s ear and teased. “Do you suppose my aunt will try to put my father in that closet until she decides if he is worthy of a room? I worry he may get stuck in such a narrow space.”

Brienne bit back a smile that threatened to encourage him further. His eyes sparkled with mirth, but at the sight of Jaime’s wound her own laughter died.

The area was swollen and affecting his eyelid as well. Brienne was angry just thinking back on the assault. _Tywin could have done permanent damage to Jaime’s eye if he struck further to the left_.

The swollen area was purpling angrily, and a fresh scab covered the center. Brienne wanted to place a gentle kiss to his injury, but the moment the thought entered her mind, Brienne chastised herself. _The last thing he would ever want is my lips near him._

Catching her stare, Jaime felt his head. “What? Is it that bad?”

Brienne grimaced slightly and looked away. Muttering to herself, Brienne cursed as she looked to Tywin. Jaime leaned into her ear again. “Luckily I don’t need to worry about a repeat. My father will never see me if I just stand behind yours.” _Idiot_.

When most of the party was tended to, Tywin directed Selwyn, Jaime, and Brienne to his study. The room felt undersized with the two powerful heads of their houses standing toe to toe. As the door shut, Tywin directed Brienne and Selwyn to sit on one side of the table as he and Jaime sat on the other.

“Very formal. This will be lovely.” Jaime whispered to Brienne as the two older lords got settled. A moment of silence filled the space. The air was heavy and constricting as the lords locked eyes; neither willing to break eye contact first.

Tywin appraised Selwyn and raised a brow. “You brought an army to my shore. Some may see that as a declaration of war.”

Selwyn smiled viciously and held eye contact. “You threatened my child with trial if she didn’t wed your son. I see that as an act of war.”

A small smirk tugged at Tywin’s lips, but Brienne hardly found the situation humorous. She was too busy picturing how best to carve Tywin to pieces. She didn’t like how close Tywin was to Jaime. The wound on Jaime’s head a mere foot from his father’s daring hand. 

Jaime looked smaller next to his father and more childlike. More vulnerable. Brienne had only ever seen Jaime as a force; cutting and confident. She knew him first as the Kingslayer. Second as the bravest knight she had ever encountered.

Tywin chuckled as though Selwyn was little more than a house fly buzzing about. “You do realize that our forces outnumber yours four to one? What purpose do you have in bringing your army when they would hardly have time to disembark before our own fleet introduces them to the bottom of the Sunset Sea.”

Brienne watched as Jaime’s eyes flitted nervously to his father. With a slight chuckle, Brienne looked to her own father. Selwyn’s smile grew wider as he looked to Tywin challengingly.

“You will find our kingdom is aptly named for both its weather and its people’s temperament. We care little for honeyed words or thinly veiled threats. We act when challenged with little regard for numbers. I care not for how many men you have in the West. The measure of an army isn’t it its numbers. It is in its resolve.”

The smirk on Tywin’s face widened as he leaned back in his chair. His brow raised impossibly higher as he tilted his chin up.

“Well I must say Lord Tarth, you will make a most impressive Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. King Tommen wishes to honor you after his uncle and Brienne are wed. The Stormlands need a new liege. Stannis has fallen at Winterfell and, as a Baratheon himself, King Tommen knows the leadership role that Tarth places in the kingdom. The other vassals listen to you and they will continue to do so as an ally to the crown.”

Selwyn looked to Brienne and back at Tywin. “You will not use my daughter nor me to control the Stormlands. If the Stormlands follow me, it is by choice. Not because a child king born of incest proclaims it so. I will not see my daughter forced into any marriage.”

Jaime straightened and looked to Brienne imploringly. As much as Brienne wanted to see Tywin shoved off the highest cliff after Oathkeeper sliced through his neck, she would not see her people die for her. She spoke confidently despite her internal fear for her father and people.

“I’ve not been forced father, _despite_ Lord Tywin. Ser Jaime’s proposal is the one I answered to. Not his father’s.” Jaime’s exhale was audible, and he swallowed thickly. Offering a small smile at Brienne, he sat back in his chair.

A victorious smile spread across Tywin’s face as he looked to Selwyn. “How terribly inconvenient for your siege plans. I trust we can put this matter of war behind us and forge a new alliance. Our children fancy themselves a love match. Let them play their game.”

Brienne flinched at the words and looked to Tywin with wide eyes. Looking to Jaime in confusion, she saw his face redden and his eyes moved to the floor. _Gods. Did he have to lie and claim this a love match to get his father’s approval?_

Feeling her father’s eyes on her, Brienne took note of the shock and concern etched across his features. With a heavy sigh, Selwyn looked back to Tywin. “So long as my daughter is not forced and chooses this marriage, I will not stand in her way. But mark my words, if I ever catch wind of any harm befalling my daughter or threat to her person, I will not hesitate to move against any fool wearing crimson and gold.”

Selwyn turned to Brienne and cast a look that suggested they would be having words later. She could hardly blame him. For what little information he had to go on, his daughter was betrothed to the Kingslayer; the father of the illegitimate boy king sitting on the throne. She had been threatened with a trial for supposedly killing a second self-proclaimed, Baratheon king.

With a storm in his eyes, Selwyn looked to Jaime. “Look at me boy.”

Brienne watched as Jaime slowly raised his head to meet Selwyn’s eyes. Tywin looked insulted at Selwyn’s command and quickly turned to face his eldest son; his eyes narrowing at Jaime.

“The Stormlands knows the truth of it. Are you going to marry my daughter and keep chasing your own sister’s skirts? By the Seven, I will remove my daughter from here faster than you can fumble with that sword at your hip.”

Tywin’s face flushed with rage and he moved to interject. “How dare you insinuate…”

“Never again.” Jaime’s eyes stayed locked on Selwyn. Brienne saw the sincerity in them. “I would not dishonor your daughter by continuing to make that mistake. It was vile and I regret it.”

Brienne already knew the truth in his words, but she wasn’t certain if her father believed Jaime. Selwyn had always been an excellent judge of character, but he didn’t ordinarily find himself needing to judge someone like Jaime. Someone whose reputation proceeded him as an oathbreaker, kingslayer, and man without honor. A man who fucked his own sister for the better part of his life and put three bastards on her.

Tywin gritted his teeth and reprimanded Jaime, but Jaime would not look away from Selwyn. “You will shut your mouth and not give credence to such filth and lies!”

“Not lies.” Jaime spoke the words and held Selwyn’s eyes. Shame washed over Jaime’s features before he looked to Brienne. “I meant what I said. I want nothing to do with her.”

From the corner of her eye, Brienne saw Tywin’s fist clench on the table. Panic went through Brienne as she saw the look in his eyes. _Gods. He is going to kill Jaime_.

Selwyn turned to Brienne and raised a brow. The question in his eyes was easy to read. _Do you trust him?_ With a nod of her head, Brienne spoke to Selwyn as much as Tywin. “I believe him. He has never lied about _that_. It will _not_ leave this room.”

She glared at Selwyn to ensure he understood the need for his silence on the matter. Begrudgingly, Selwyn looked to Tywin and nodded. “It doesn’t leave the room. We may be a lot of things in the east, but we are not dishonest.”

Tywin’s face lightened slightly, but the anger remained heavy in his eyes. With a sideways glance to Jaime, Tywin looked back to Selwyn. “As that is settled, we can proceed without further threat to one another’s person. After the wedding, Brienne will remain here at the Rock with Jaime. Regardless of how the Stormlands feels on the matter, King Tommen will officially declare you Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. I would have other matters to discuss with you before we both return to where we are needed.”

Selwyn snorted and shrugged his massive shoulders. Rising to stand, Selwyn whispered to Brienne. “We will discuss this child.”

Jaime stood from his chair as Tywin slowly followed. It was amusing to see Jaime as the shortest in the room given how close he was to her own height. Selwyn placed a hand on Brienne’s shoulder and began to guide her from the room.

Looking back to Jaime, Brienne watched as he moved to follow, but Tywin grabbed him by the back of the neck and jerkin. Snarling at him, Tywin spat through clenched teeth. “Not you.”

Moving into the hallway and shutting the door behind them, Selwyn looked to Brienne with displeasure eyes. He spoke in maddened, hushed tones. “The Kingslayer, Brienne!? Truly? What is going on?”

Brienne could barely take her eyes off the study door. “We shouldn’t leave him in there with Tywin.”

Selwyn scoffed. “Let the lions claw at each other. I want to understand what the hells is going on!”

A commotion could be heard from the other side and Tywin’s voice captured Brienne’s attention. The words were muffled, but Brienne knew the tone. She experienced it earlier. “Father, Tywin is going to kill him. He did _that_ to his head just this morning!”

Selwyn huffed in annoyance and tilted his head in question. “Intentionally?”

Before Brienne could answer, the commotion inside the study grew louder. Selwyn’s eyes went wide and he barreled back through the door. At the sight before her, Brienne’s brows shot to her hairline. Tywin had Jaime pinned against the back wall; his hand at Jaime’s throat. Jaime looked in a daze as his flesh hand tried to push Tywin away.

“Let go of the boy!”

“I am having words with my son, Selwyn. I’ll see you both later for dinner.”

“A dialogue or a monologue!? The boy can’t speak if you’re choking him to death.” Selwyn kept his eyes on Tywin as he moved around the desk. The head of the Lannister household removed his hand and glared at Selwyn.

“It is little concern of yours how I speak with my children.”

Grabbing Jaime by the arm, Selwyn maneuvered him behind his massive frame. “It concerns me when he is to become one of my children. A threat against a child of mine, by blood or by law, is a threat against me. You will not touch this boy in violence again.”

Without awaiting Tywin’s reply, Selwyn turned and urged Brienne and Jaime from the room. “Upstairs now!”

They moved in silence towards the room Selwyn had been assigned. Selwyn pushed open the door and ushered them in quickly. He began grabbing his things and looked to Brienne. “Lets go, Brienne. We’re getting you out of here. If the boy isn’t safe, he can come, but this wedding is not happening!”

Jaime moved forward quickly and implored Selwyn to hear him out. “Wait, Lord Tarth. If I can speak with you for a moment.”

“No. Brienne, lets go.” Brienne watched as her father looked past Jaime and to her, refusing to acknowledge him further.

Brienne sighed, but before she could speak, Jaime cut in again. “Please, just one moment. If I could speak to you and explain.”

Continuing to ignore Jaime, the older lord kept his eyes on Brienne. “No! There is nothing to explain. Brienne, lets go.”

Jaime took another step closer. “I’m sorry for whatever nonsense my father sent you. It’s just that…”

Selwyn’s face flashed with rage as he finally looked to Jaime. “I said _no_ Kingslayer!”

“Do not call him that!” Brienne moved quickly to Jaime’s side and locked eyes with her father. “His name is Jaime.”

Brienne watched as her father’s brows knitted together in bewilderment. With a scoff, his chest heaved. “What!?”

Turning to Jaime, Brienne closed her eyes and sighed. “Can you give me a moment with my father?” Jaime looked apprehensively between the Tarths, but ultimately acquiesced. He offered a small smile and turned to face her fully. “I’ll be in my room. Just… stay. Please.”

With a nod of understanding, Brienne looked to her father as Jaime exited. Selwyn tilted his head and smirked at her “Jaime, huh? Well now this should be an interesting.”

Selwyn sat down at the table near the balcony and patted the empty seat indicating for Brienne to join him. They spoke for some time. First they shared updates on their own health. They spoke of Tarth and the Stormlands. Of what happened at Renly’s camp.

Then the conversation shifted as Selwyn pressed to understand more of her and ‘Jaime’. They spoke of Lady Catelyn and the Riverlands. Of Locke and his men. Of sapphires and bear pits. Of King’s Landing and finding Sansa.

At the end of the conversation, Selwyn leaned back and rubbed his face. “Seven hells. Not again.”

“Not again?” Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion.

Selwyn gave her a look that answered her unspoken question. Turning away, Brienne looked out towards the balcony. “Don’t. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Does he love you back?” Selwyn looked to Brienne hesitantly. Her face dropped at the words and she could feel her face flush.

“No.”

“Come home, Brienne.”

“You know that I can’t. If I go with you, the crown will wage war on Tarth. Cersei wants my head.”

“I will not leave you to suffer in a marriage of unrequited love nor will I see you dragged to the capital to face death!”

“You and I both know that there is no other option. If I run from this, I need to flee Westeros. I won’t endanger Tarth by going home with you.”

Selwyn’s hands clenched and shook in frustration. “All this so Tywin Lannnister can see his son married off! I don’t understand. Surely, he can find someone else!”

With a resigned sigh, Brienne shook her head. “Jaime won’t. He refuses.”

“What!? Why?”

“He doesn’t like ladies of court. He says they’re boring. Apparently, he prefers the company of a friend who costs him a hand than the drudgery of wedded life to a noblewoman.”

At her words, Selwyn furrowed his brows in consideration. “It just seems… odd. Obviously, Tywin is forcing the issue, but the boy…”

With a resigned sigh, Selwyn looked to Brienne. “I swore to you that I would never force a marriage on you. Not after that bullshit with Wagstaff. I will not let someone else’s father force his son on you. I will take you across the sea if that is what keeps you safe.

Brienne sighed and considered his words. _It would save Jaime from a life with me. What about Sansa though? How can I look after her?_

Turning back to her father, Brienne nodded. “I’ll go across the sea, but only if Ser Jaime swears to me that he will look after Sansa per out oath to Lady Catelyn. Let me go talk to him.”

Before Brienne could leave, Selwyn stood quickly. “No. You sit here. I’ll go speak with the boy myself. If he agrees, we leave at once.”


	16. Expressing Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Selwyn talks to Jaime and Jaime makes some realizations.

Jaime sat at the table in his room holding his wooden Ser Duncan knight in his hands. _If Selwyn is any indication, the tales of Dunk’s size are not exaggerated_. Jaime sat at the table fretting more over Selwyn’s blocking his marriage to Brienne than his own father’s wrath.

_Let Tywin choke me and hit me all he wants so long as I get to say my vows to Brienne. Let Selwyn think me an incestuous, oathbreaking, kingslayer so long as I can hold Brienne and keep her safe. I only want to find a way to get her to fall in love with me, even if it takes the rest of my life._

Jaime cleared his throat and rubbed at his neck. When Brienne and Selwyn had stepped outside the study, Jaime knew he was as good as dead. He admitted to incest. He admitted to Tommen being illegitimate.

Jaime knew he could never reveal such truths to anyone but a Tarth without fear of word spreading like wildfire. Knowing Brienne as he did, he trusted her implicitly with his darkest secret and in the meeting with her father, it was more important to Jaime that he was honest with the man.

Tywin did not see it that way. The very man who stood in Jaime’s way of happiness was the very man who saved him in that moment. When Selwyn stormed back in and told off his father, a seed of hope began to grow in Jaime’s stomach. _Maybe he will accept me for his daughter if I can prove myself worthy somehow._

Thinking back on Selwyn’s words to Brienne, Jaime found himself going into a mild panic. _‘Brienne, lets go. We’re leaving.’_ Jaime couldn’t lose her again. He had watched Brienne leave him once in King’s Landing. Jaime didn’t have the strength to see her leave again, but he knew that both instances would be his own fault.

His family was a threat to Brienne’s well-being and the guilt of that knowledge gnawed at Jaime. _My own selfish desire to be with her may be what ends up getting her killed._

A knock came at the door and interrupted Jaime’s thoughts. He was surprised to find Selwyn Tarth on the other side. Stepping back to let the older lord in, Jaime offered him a seat.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Selwyn looked around the room and raised a brow in amusement. “A little old for some this, don’t you think?”

Jaime followed his gaze and realized that he was still holding Ser Duncan. His face flushed as he put his hand behind his back. “I haven’t been here since I was a boy. I suppose they never bothered to throw it all out.”

Selwyn hummed and met Jaime’s eyes. “Brienne has agreed to let me escort her to safety across the Narrow Sea, but only if you are willing to uphold your oath to Lady Catleyn about the Stark girl.”

Jaime’s face dropped. It was as he expected and feared. “That is what she wants then?” Try as he might, Jaime could hardly remove the sorrow from his voice.

“It is what she needs. Clearly your family has chased her out of her homeland. As much as I would gladly fight to my last breath for her and take out as many of your kingdom’s men in the process, she is too honorable and self-sacrificing for that. On the other hand, I won’t see her burdened with another false accusation of kingkilling and I won’t see her forced into a loveless marriage.”

At Selwyn’s words, Jaime felt an overwhelming desperation claw at his heart. “I’ll go with her. We can take Sansa and my brother across the sea. We’ll keep them safe.”

Selwyn’s brows furrowed. “I can’t very well steal away with Tywin Lannister’s sons and gooddaughter without him sending the whole of Westeros after us. Once they destroy the entirety of the Stormalnds, they’ll look for you.”

“Please. Lord Tarth. I won’t let any harm befall her. I would die before I let that happen.” Jaime’s tone was laced with despair. He would go anywhere to be with Brienne. To keep her safe and to earn her love.

A strange expression flitted across Selwyn’s face. His eyes narrowed slightly in contemplation before widening in shock. “I think I’ll take that seat now.” The older lord walked to the previously offered chair and sat down slowly. He absently tapped the wood table with his finger before looking to Jaime.

“Come, sit down boy. And by the Gods put down that doll.”

Jaime’s face flushed slightly. “It’s not a doll. It’s a wooden knight.”

Selwyn outstretched his hand. “Give it here.”

Flipping the doll around in his hand behind his back, Jaime hesitated. The mere fact that Selwyn caught him holding Ser Duncan gave away too much of his heart’s truth. _Surely he doesn’t want someone like me loving this daughter_. Moving to the table, Jaime sat beside Selwyn and dropped the knight in the older lord’s hand.

Selwyn appraised the toy and chuckled. “You’re missing the falling star.”

With a returning laugh, Jaime smiled as Selwyn handed him back the toy knight. “So I’ve been told.”

The older lord crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. His facial expression betrayed an array of conflicting thoughts vying for voice.

“You were honest with me downstairs and I want you to be honest with me now.” At Selwyn’s words, Jaime looked at the older lord and nodded. “Brienne told me what you did for her in the Riverlands. You sacrificed your self-identity to keep her safe.” Selwyn looked pointedly to Jaime’s false hand.

Jaime looked briefly at his maimed arm and then back to Selwyn who sucked a breath in and continued. “She told me what you did for her in that bear pit too. When I received that missive from Locke…” Taking a steadying breath the older lord looked away and shook his head. “I thought it mattered little how much I offered. I knew they would never give her back.”

Selwyn’s eyes moved to Jaime’s hip where Widow’s Wail rested. “She didn’t need to confirm who gave her the sword at her hip that sits sheathed in a belt adorned with lion heads and starbursts, but all the same I appreciate you seeing her well-armed.” The older lord chuckled and hummed. “No one ever gave me a valyrian sword. I got on quite well with your father. Mayhap he’ll gift me valyrian steel… although I imagine it would be received in a less pleasant manner.”

Looking back to Jaime, Selwyn continued. “Brienne told me you’ve now sacrificed more than your physical safety for her. You’ve sacrificed your emotional well-being to keep her safe. She says you’ve cast aside your own desire for love to see her to safety. It’s the only part of her tale that I call bullshit on.”

At Selwyn’s words, Jaime felt the blush creeping into his cheeks and ears as Selwyn raised a knowing brow at him. “Gods. I don’t know why I only thought to find her a match in the Stormlands. Mayhap I would have seen better luck if I followed the setting sun.”

Jaime looked down to his hand and the toy knight in it. His heart raced as he wondered what would come next. “Do you plan on telling my daughter that you’re not as self-sacrificing as she might think?”

Jaime flipped the wooden knight around absently and considered the question. It seemed absurd how many people had seen through him. Everyone except Brienne. The one person whom he needed to know the truth of it, was the one person Jaime couldn’t bring himself to confess to.

“I like to think I’ve been slowly working up to it.”

“How long have you loved her then?”

The question hit Jaime harder than he expected it would. He had only admitted it to himself when sending Brienne away from King’s Landing, but when had it begun? When had his feelings for her changed from that of an enemy, to a comrade, to a friend, to something more?

“I only admitted it to myself a few moons ago, but I think my heart knew well before that.”

Selwyn sighed and looked to the ceiling. “Who besides me knows?”

Jaime huffed a bitter laugh. “Oh, just a person here or there… my father, my brother, my sister… Genna, my cousins, Sansa… my brother’s obnoxious sellsword friend… I’m fairly certain Brienne’s squire… I imagine the kitchen staff and the stable boys have figured it out at this point too. Apparently, I’m quite pathetic about it.”

“So basically, everyone except my daughter. My daughter, who thinks you are doing her a kindness. My daughter, who is willing to sail across the Narrow Sea to live out her days alone and in fear, away from family and friends, just to spare you the misery of a marriage with her.”

At his words, Jaime’s jaw went slack. “I told her that I would never regret a marriage to her!”

Selwyn chuckled and shook his head. “How romantic. Idiots. The pair of you. Fix it boy. I won’t sail her away tonight. I’ll tell her that you prefer to suffer at her side and I leave the option to her, but by the Gods if I leave this damn rock and you haven’t been honest with her, I will either tell her myself or take her back to Tarth.”

Standing to leave, Selwyn groaned as his knees cracked. “Seven hells, I’m too old for all this.” The older lord huffed and looked down to Jaime who sat staring at Ser Duncan. “Do you know what she wanted to be when she was little?”

Looking up at Selwyn, Jaime thought back to when he asked Brienne the same question about himself. “A knight?”

With a loud guffaw the older lord smiled and shook his head. “She wanted to be a wife and mother. Unfortunately, the rest of Westeros thought that a great jape. Try as I did, everyone around her made it clear that no one would come to claim her or fight for her or love her. So, she became her own protector. She figured that if she couldn’t be loved, she could at least fight for those that _she_ loved. So I let her train with a sword and cut her hair and put on armor. I let her go off to war knowing that I may never see her again.”

Selwyn’s shoulders sagged and he met Jaime’s eyes. “I don’t know why you don’t want to tell her how you feel. I just know, that it would be nice for Brienne to realize she isn’t little more than a great jape as she has been made to feel. That she lovable and loved.”

Selwyn turned and left the room, leaving Jaime to his thoughts. The realization that Brienne thought so little of herself hit Jaime hard. He replayed all the horrible things he said to her when they met. He thought on the way others treated her and belittled her. How willing she was to accept their cruelty.

Jaime realized that in his effort to spare himself the pain of rejection, he had unknowingly and unintentionally asked Brienne to keep believing she was not loved. _I asked her to marry me for practical reasons. I asked her to consider that our marriage could grow into love. Not that I already did love her._

_Gods. I might as well have told her, ‘Hey well you’re not getting a better offer anywhere else and it isn’t like anyone loves you, so why not marry me to keep your oath and your head on your shoulders.’ Selwyn had the right of it. How romantic indeed._

Jaime resolved that even if Brienne could never return his love, she had the right to know of it. _I’ll tell her tonight_. Knowing he would be laying his entire heart on the table for her to accept or reject, Jaime felt his nerves kick in.

With Cersei, Jaime never had to confront the necessity of a love confession. As twins, by very nature of kinship they loved one another. Obviously, a romantic love was meant to be much different than a familial love, but the fact that love already existed in some form negated the need to express it aloud.

With Cersei, Jaime never had to court her. Jaime laughed at the thought of it. Cersei only ever wanted two things from him; fucking and protecting. _There is no courting necessary in that. She likely would have laughed at me if I tried to court her_. _No, she wouldn’t have laughed. She would have yelled at me for being so stupid._

What Jaime wanted with Brienne was different. He certainly wanted to protect her. He definitely wanted to fuck her, but even that felt cheap to him _. No, I want to make love to her. I never did THAT with Cersei. It was pure lust and ownership._

With Brienne, Jaime wanted to fight beside her, laugh with her, build a family with her, and grow old with her. He wanted to give and receive all the intimacies that came with love. Brienne respected him, defended him, and soothed him. _Cersei never did any of that for me_. 

Considering what Selwyn had shared, Jaime didn’t want to merely blurt out his love as though proclaiming what he wanted for supper. He wanted to make it meaningful. To ensure Brienne knew his sincerity in it. _I need help_.

Moving from his room, Jaime came to stand before Tyrion’s door. He knocked urgently and looked around the hallway. The castle was quiet considering a small contingent of Stormlands forces showed up ready for war not long ago.

The door opened to reveal Sansa and Jaime couldn’t help as his face fell immediately. “Oh. Hi. Is Tyrion around?”

“Your aunt came looking for him. I’m not certain where they went.”

 _Seven hells._ “Ah, I see. Thanks.” Jaime turned to walk away, but Sansa spoke again. “What did you need him for?”

“Uh, just things.”

Sansa snorted and raised a brow. “Things?”

“Brother things.”

“Well are these brother _things_ because only someone with a cock can give advice or are these siblings _things_ that a goodsister could help with?”

_I suppose she already knows. She is a woman so mayhap she would have better ideas than Tyrion anyway. He would likely tell me to woo Brienne by giving her some wine and whipping out my cock._

“Mayhap you could help.” Jaime bit his lip and scratched his head uncertainly.

Stepping back from the doorway, Sansa gestured for him to come inside. The room was a mess and Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle. For someone with such a sharp, focused mind, Tyrion could be very scattered in his living habits. Sansa shut the door and began picking things off the chairs while muttering to herself.

“He has always been this messy… if you’re wondering.” Jaime chuckled slightly as he watched Sansa shove Tyrion’s things into the chest at the foot of their bed.

“Great, well any advice for how to motivate him to keep things tidy?” She asked the question with her back turned as if a secondary thought.

“I only know of one thing that motivates my brother. I doubt you want to hear about and if you do, that would definitely be more of a sister _thing_ to ask advice about.”

Sansa’s face flushed slightly, and Jaime chuckled inwardly at her innocence compared to Tyrion where it concerned physical matters. With a slight shake of her head, Sansa sat down across from him at the table.

“So, what _things_ can I try to help you with in absence of your brother.”

Jaime fidgeted slightly in his chair and looked out the window. “Um… well you are a woman.”

Sansa chuckled and raised a brow. “Oh my. I admire how perceptive you are, and I immediately hope this isn’t about how moonblood cycles work.”

With a sigh and eye roll that Brienne would be proud of, Jaime met Sansa’s eyes. “No. I think I’m all set on that.” Jaime’s sarcastic smile fell as he considered the phrasing of his question. “So, um. As a woman, if… if a man was to tell you something important, how would you want to be told?”

“I imagine it depends on what I’m being told. I much appreciated Tyrion telling me to sit down when he told me of my family being slaughtered by yours at the Twins.” Sansa’s eyes narrowed in contempt and Jaime felt guilt wash through him. _My family truly does ruin everything good in this world_.

“Yes, I never got to tell you how very sorry I am about all that. I wouldn’t have…”

“I know. Apologies, that was not fair. Today was just an unpleasant reminder of your father’s cruelty. Well, you know. You were on the receiving end of it. Please, go on.”

Jaime collected himself and took a deep breath. “If a man was to tell you that he… that he was in love with you… how would you want him to do that?”

At Jaime’s words, Sansa’s brows rose in surprise. A wide smile spread across her face as she lunged at him. The young wolf pulled him into a tight hug as she chuckled. “Oh, thank the gods you asked me and not Tyrion. Finally! This is so exciting!”

Sansa sat down and began tapping her fingers excitedly as she considered his question. “This needs to be romantic. Don’t tell her in between japes or in the sparring yard. Don’t do it in front of others. She won’t appreciate that. Don’t wait until after the wedding either!”

“Alright, I think I can manage not to fuck all that up. I was thinking of telling her tonight.”

Sansa became even more excited; a feat Jaime had not thought possible. “Do you know of anyplace secluded and special that you can take her to? Someplace that has significance to you that you can share with her? You can use that as an excuse to pull her away from everyone to get there.”

 _That… is actually a good idea_. “Yes, I can do that.”

“Good! Now don’t just blurt it out. You need to lead up to it. Make it special. Compliment her first and maybe give some examples of the things you love about her. No japes though!”

“Alright! I’ve got it on the ‘no japes’ part.”

“Oh Gods! You have to kiss her. A proper kiss, Jaime. Not that teasing pout thing that you do when you’re desperate for her attention.”

Shaking his head, Jaime snorted. “I don’t much feel like being stabbed, thank you. I’m not even confident she feels the same way. I think I should just focus on the telling her part.”

With a longsuffering sigh, Sansa looked to the ceilings. “Gods these two.”

“Fine. Think whatever you like. Brienne will respond as she sees fit. Now, lets discuss your approach.”

Jaime and Sansa spoke for some time. Sansa was more than eager to share her opinions and thoughts on the matter. _Gods. I came expecting a suggestion and she writes me novel on what to do or not do_. Jaime realized that he was truly in for it when she asked the attendants to deliver food and drink.

When eventually Jaime left the room, it was practically time for dinner. He had a plan and moved to his room; a slight spring in his step as nervousness balanced evenly with excitement.

Passing by the stairwell, Jaime looked down to see the dignitaries from King’s Landing in the entryway; Oberyn Martell, Mace Tyrell, Ellaria Sand, and Uncle Kevan. A woman that Jaime vaguely recognized stood just behind Tywin and looked around as the castle staff bustled about.

Walking past the open stairwell, Jaime proceeded down the hall towards his room. He planned to tidy up before dinner in hopes that if he made more of an effort with his appearance, that Brienne might be more willing to consider him. Jaime had never fretted so much over his appearance as he did in that moment.

Drawing compliments and attention from women had never been an issue in life. He was renowned for his skill with a sword among men and his looks among women. _The golden Lannister twins_. None of that mattered to Jaime, however. He only cared that one woman was attracted to him; Brienne.

As he moved down the hallway, he noticed that Brienne’s door was open. He was excited and fearful at the prospect of running into her. Part of Jaime worried he would be too excited and spill everything the moment he saw her. He swore to himself that he couldn’t do that. He needed to make it as special for her as he had planned with Sansa’s help.

The other part of him worried that seeing her before he was ready would throw him off. Cause his nerves to return and make him a coward again. That he would find yet another excuse to not tell her. Moving by the door, his eyes glanced in and saw her sitting by the table.

When their eyes met, Jaime averted his gaze and darted towards his room. “Ser Jaime?” _Fuck_.

Brienne moved quickly into the hallway, her eyes looked wary and concerned. Trying to remain nonchalant, Jaime offered a small smile as his hand lingered on the door handle to his room. “Yes?”

“May I speak with you for a moment?” _Oh no. No, Gods don’t let me ruin this_. “Uh… yes. I was actually just going to get ready before dinner. What is it?”

“Oh. I just… have you seen my father? I think he was looking for your earlier.” _Wait. What?_

Jaime’s brows furrowed and he took a step towards her. With his mouth ajar in confusion, he wondered if Selwyn had changed his mind about speaking to Brienne. “Yes, I spoke to him. He was going to speak to you I believe.”

“I haven’t seen him since he left to speak with you. He asked me to wait in his room, but he never came back. I tried to find him earlier, but...” Brienne played with the hem of her jerkin and looked around nervously. From over Brienne’s shoulder, Jaime saw his father walking towards them; a stern expression on his face. _Oh Gods. Now what._


	17. They Make You Swear and Swear and Swear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tywin has some less than pleasant news for Jaime and Brienne.

Brienne’s mind was riddled with worry. Her father always followed through on his words. He said he return after speaking with Jaime. Then, he didn’t come back.

The moment Brienne saw Jaime in the hallway without her father, she knew something was wrong. Jaime seemed nervous and tried to avoid her; his behavior that of someone who wanted to run away from the approaching party. _Has he agreed to my father’s offer to take me away? To spare him from me?_

Something over her shoulder caught Jaime’s attention. Turning to follow his gaze, she saw Tywin approaching with an unimpressed look on his face. _Seven hells. Now what?_

“Both of you. We need to speak in my study immediately.” Without another word, Tywin turned and marched back towards the steps. His hands clasped behind his back and his chin held high. He was in his element. A lion overseeing his dominion and Brienne couldn’t help but feel ill at ease.

With a glance to Jaime, Brienne could see the confusion on his face. The walked quietly side by side towards Tywin’s study on the first floor of the keep. The castle was quiet; barely a staff member in sight. _Where is everyone?_

Earlier when she sat in her room, she heard the voices of senior ranking Stormlands generals laughing through the halls and down the stairs. Roughly a dozen of them had been provided rooms in the keep and the rest returned to Lannisport or the ships until called on by Selwyn.

Entering the study, Brienne saw an unfamiliar woman in the corner of the room. Lannister guards stood inside the doorway and Brienne’s eyes flitted to Jaime. _What is going on?_

Indicating for them to sit, Tywin moved behind the desk. “I’ve received formal consent from Lord Tarth for this wedding. Not that it matters. The crown called for this match which supersedes Lord Tarth’s consent.” Tywin produced a formal document of consent between the two lords. It was a signature Brienne had seen many times in her life. She knew it to be her father’s.

She quickly tried to scan the document, but Tywin retracted it and continued speaking.

“Unfortunately, Lord Selwyn overstepped his bounds today. Regretfully, he won’t be able to attend the wedding which will now be tonight.”

Panic rushed through Brienne as she looked in horror to Jaime. _Where is my father!? What is happening?_ As if sensing her panic, Tywin rolled his eyes. “Your father is alive girl… for now. Your cooperation in the matter will determine how things play out for him.”

“What have you done!?” Jaime’s voice echoed off the walls of the small room. The space seemed to be closing in on Brienne quickly. _I can’t breathe._

With a wave of his hand to someone behind them, Tywin beckoned more people into the room. Brienne looked over her shoulder and saw Oberyn Martell, a Septon, and a man who Brienne didn’t recognize, but immediately pegged as a Lannister. The man looked look Tywin, but shorter and less menacing; although equally unpleasant.

“Well… on your feet. The both of you. Lets get this over with.” Tywin’s tone brokered no argument and Brienne felt herself rising to her feet. The Septon moved to stand before them, a book of prayers open and in his hand.

He began to speak, but Brienne barely heard the words. Her mind was racing with worry of her father. Fear for what Tywin had planned for him and her people. Before she knew what was happening, Oberyn was handing a ribbon to the Septon.

Everything felt in slow motion. Brienne could feel her hand being placed on top of Jaime’s, but the words of the Septon were muffled in her mind. Looking at Jaime, Brienne noted that he appeared equally in a stupor. 

More words. More fog. More movement from others around them. Then all sound stopped. Brienne felt Jaime shaking her hand. “Brienne?”

Brienne looked at Jaime and then back at the Septon. “The words, my lady.” _The words? What words?_ Then it hit her. _Oh._

The Septon shifted Brienne and Jaime to face on another before the small crowd gathered in the small room.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers and she is mine. From this day until the end of my days”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his and he is mine. From this day until the end of my days.”

 _Where is my father? Where is everyone else? This doesn’t feel right_.

For the second time, Jaime squeezed her hand. His eyes were a mix of sorrow and misery. _He doesn’t want this. I’ve ruined his life._

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.” They stared at one another for a moment before the Septon cleared his voice and looked to Jaime. With his eyes downcast, Jaime leaned in and kissed the corner of Brienne’s mouth.

Jaime pulled back and looked forward with his head hung in what Brienne assumed to be shame. She closed her eyes and dropped her own head. Tywin’s voice broke through the silence that had fallen over the room.

“Thank you, Septon Daren. As discussed, you can file this _only_ after I confirm the rest. You and the others can wait outside now.” At his words, everyone in the room cleared out save the guards, Tywin, and the woman standing in the corner.

“Sit.” Tywin’s voice was commanding, and Brienne was hardly in the state of mind to argue with him. Taking their seats, Brienne and Jaime stared ahead dumbly at Tywin.

“Now, it has come to my attention that you two have been disgracing my home by sharing a bed for the past fortnight. If someone who calls herself a noblewoman can so easily fall into bed with my son, I can only imagine the manner of men she has fallen into bed with before. I’ve heard of the bets on her maidenhead. I’ve heard of the moniker ‘Kingslayer’s Whore’. I’ve heard of an _allegedly_ prevented rape in the Riverlands. I hear rumors that mayhap this wedding is even an effort on Lady Brienne’s part to conceal a pregnancy. Before the Septon formally records this union, the midwife will check her for signs of an intact maidenhead or, gods forbid, a bastard in her.”

Brienne felt her stomach drop at the words. Her eyes went wide as she looked to the apathetic woman standing in the corner.

“That is disgusting and absurd! You will do no such thing!” Jaime barked at Selwyn from her side.

“Silence boy! If you speak out of turn again, I will take Brienne to King’s Landing and put her on trial for the murder of King Joffrey.” Jaime stiffened at the words; his jaw snapping shut.

Tywin leaned back in his chair as his face lost some of the rage that consumed him. “Now, as I said, we will confirm Lady Brienne’s status as a maid and that no bastard grows in her belly. The midwife has explained that not all women have the markers, but we can at least be certain she isn’t with child and using you to cover her whorish behavior.”

Brienne’s eyes flitted to the woman in the corner who looked as pleasant as Tywin. “My second concern regards the purpose of this union. I made the mistake of not following through with Tyrion and Sansa. After the midwife checks Brienne and clears the claims made against her, you two will go upstairs and consummate this marriage. When you have finished, the midwife will come to you and Brienne again.”

A sob pushed past Brienne’s lips. She felt Jaime’s hand moved to her and his eyes were nothing short of an apology. Tywin stood from his chair.

“When this is done, Selwyn will be released from his _confinement_. In a couple of days, there will be a wedding and feast as planned so as not to _upset_ any of our guests. Neither of you will breathe a word of this to anyone or the wrath of the crown will come down on you.”

Tywin cast a long look at Jaime; his eyes cold. “Mayhap this time, we will keep our mouth shut about rumors that could destroy _our_ house.”

With a nod to the guards, they grabbed Jaime’s arms and pulled him violently from his seat. “Brienne! Brienne, I’m sorry.” Tywin moved out and shut the door behind him. Distantly, Brienne could hear Jaime screaming through the keep.

Looking slowly to the woman in the corner, Brienne noted the disgust on the midwife’s face. “From the look of you, I hope to not be greeted with a cock. Take off your sword, breeches, and boots. Leave them in the corner and lay on the floor.”

Brienne felt the bile rise in her throat as she slowly complied. She could think of nothing other than keeping her father and everyone around her safe, even if it meant seeing herself degraded.

The exam was quick and awkward. The midwife instructed her to put her breeches back on and sit down. Oathkeeper and Brienne’s boots remained in the corner; both items a distant thought given what just happened.

Moving to the door, the midwife opened it and spoke in hushed tones. The door to the study closed again, but this time Tywin was back in the room. “My lord, she still has her maidenhead.”

With a nod, Tywin dismissed the woman and instructed her not to go far. She would be called on to confirm the union consummated. Tywin sat down and studied Brienne as though she were a book written in ancient valyrian.

“Let me be clear, girl. I will have no more trouble from you. You are one of my children now and you will do as I say. I care little for the freedom previously afforded to you by your own father. Clearly it has made you weak of character. Evidently, you have been a poor influence on my eldest son. That ends today. You will give this family its heirs. You will wear dresses. You will put down the sword. Now, go consummate your marriage.”

With a dismissive wave, Tywin directed her from the room. Brienne stood to leave, but Tywin’s voice halted her progress. “One more thing…” Brienne turned to meet Tywin’s eyes. A vicious smile akin to the one Brienne graced him earlier when Selwyn arrived spread across his lips. “Welcome to the family, Lady Brienne Lannister.”

Brienne left the study, shutting the door behind her. Looking to her left, she saw Oberyn, Ellaria, Kevan, Mace, and the midwife. They were standing in a circle speaking in hushed tones. As her eyes reached their group, Kevan and Mace walked towards the castle exit.

As though pulled by an invisible cord, Brienne went upstairs and down the hallway. Guards were stationed outside Jaime’s room, staring ahead at the opposite wall. Hanging her head, she knew what was to come.

When she arrived outside the door, Brienne knocked lightly and pushed the door open to see Jaime sitting on his bed. He sprang up quickly and moved towards her. Pulling her into a tight embrace, Jaime slammed the door behind Brienne and muttered apologies into her head.

“Brienne, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I swear it. Are you alright?”

Brienne felt numb, but she stepped back and nodded in confirmation. An awkward silence filled the space between them. Neither moved nor attempted to speak. Brienne looked to the balcony in consideration. Given the hour, it was dark outside, and Brienne sent a silent prayer to the seven for gifting Jaime the cover of night for her face.

Looking at Jaime, Brienne saw him fidget and avert his eyes. _Gods. I can’t do this to him. It’s too horrible_.

They both moved to speak at the same time.

“Should I…”

“Do you want to…”

Brienne dropped her head and looked to her hands. She waited for him to continue. “I was going to say, do you want to talk about this? Or do you want to just…”

Guilt gnawed at her. _He has never been with anyone but Cersei. I’ll ruin him for all women. He’ll go running back to his sister after he sees me._

“I will um… go under the furs. I suppose…”

“Right. OK. I’ll just. I’ll give you a moment then.”

Jaime turned towards the wall and Brienne moved to the bed. She took off her jerkin, breeches and smallclothes. It occurred to her that she walked to his room bootless and without her sword. _Not that Tywin will let me keep the sword anyway_.

Climbing in under the furs, Brienne kept her tunic on and covered her lower half. _Best not scare him away at the sight of me naked_.

“I’m ready. Thank you.”

Jaime hesitantly glanced back and nodded. He removed his own clothing except for his smallclothes and slid under the furs beside her. Another moment of awkward silence passed. Brienne’s mind raced with all manner of thoughts.

Feeling Jaime’s eyes on her, Brienne turned her head to look at him. He looked uncomfortable and hesitant.

When Brienne spoke, the words came out choked. “Would it be best if I lay on my stomach? I heard… I understand that could help your mind.”

Jaime’s brows knitted in confusion. “Who told you that?”

“My septa.”

A slew of emotions fought for dominance on Jaime’s face. “No. She sounds like a proper idiot.”

_Seven hells. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make him not have to see this. Will he do that thing he said? Will he go away inside?_

“The candles. We should put them out.”

Jaime’s face scrunched again at her words. “I prefer them.”

 _Uglier in daylight. Well I suppose he might correct that to candlelight after tonight_.

Brienne’s throat felt dry and constricted. She knew that Jaime would never hurt her, but she couldn’t promise him the same. She felt she was already hurting him by seeing him put in this position.

With a deep breath, Brienne looked quickly to Jaime. “Am I supposed to… I don’t know what I’m meant to do.” As if realizing where he was, Jaime jolted and began muttering.

“Right. Sorry.” He moved over Brienne awkwardly and held his body over hers, but not touching. He looked horrified and pained as he nudged her legs apart. Glancing to Brienne, Jaime’s eyes met hers before quickly darting away. He swallowed thickly and looked down at their bodies.

“I can’t. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”

Brienne bit back the sob in her throat. _Gods this is embarrassing. How did he think he could pull this off? He can’t even stand to have his body touch mine._

“Can you… pretend that I’m someone else?”

Jaime’s face looked horrified and he answered angrily. “No!” At his own tone, Jaime shook his head and immediately apologizes, but Brienne didn’t need it. She understood what this was doing to him. He is being asked to debase himself to protect me.

“I’m so sorry, Brienne. It just… it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

Brienne closed her eyes and tried to compose herself. _I’m too ugly to even pretend. I should have never agreed to this. How could I have accepted this kindness from him? I’ve ruined his life_.

Try as she might, Brienne couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes, but she would not let them fall.

Jaime looked to her and his face fell. With a tight jaw, he pushed himself away from her and sat back on his heels, covering her for modesty.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I won’t _force_ myself on you, Brienne. I need to tell you something, and I’m sorry it has to be like _this_. I wanted it to be different more than you can ever know.”

_No, I can imagine you wanted something different. Something less beastly. Less ugly. Less manish. Less unlovable. I would be more shocked to find that this was what you wanted._

Bracing herself for the rejection she had painfully tried to avoid, Brienne looked out towards the balcony. Images of Connington and Wagstaff danced in her mind. Memories of the ball at Tarth where she became ‘Brienne the Beauty’. Thoughts of the bets on her maidenhead as little more than a jape among soldiers.

“I um… I need to tell you the truth, Brienne.”

_Gods. How embarrassing to have to tell Tywin that his son couldn’t bear the sight of me to do what was expected of him. Too ugly to bed. If only for a moment, if I could be someone else. Someone who won’t repulse him so much._

Jaime stammered and fumbled for what felt like an eternity. Then, they heard a woman’s scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that was a tough/uncomfortable chapter!


	18. A Scream in the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They find the source of the scream and there are a lot of implications for Jaime and Brienne.

As Jaime sat waiting for Brienne to come to the chambers, his mind was wild with rage. He wanted to kill Tywin. He wanted to protect Brienne and avenge her humiliation. He wanted to find Selwyn and join his ranks; tear down anyone in crimson and gold moving against Brienne.

She had looked devastated saying her vows and more than once, Jaime had to squeeze her hand and bring her back to the present. _Has she learned my trick? Has she gone away inside?_

Then she came to the room. She looked physically sick and he wanted to throttle the midwife. No one deserved what she had been accused of and subjected to. Now his father demanded that Jaime force himself on an unwilling participant. _I am not a rapist! I will never hurt Brienne._

He knew the repercussions of not consummating the marriage though. He didn’t want harm to befall Selwyn or Brienne. _I either save her life and break her emotionally or I save her the trauma of a forced union and risk seeing her and Selwyn killed as result_.

Jaime was at war with himself. Nothing was ever black and white. There was no way Brienne escaped this unharmed in one manner or another. When she didn’t rage or protest the bedding, Jaime wondered if mayhap she would be amenable to the consummation. He was afraid to speak or move, wishing her to take the lead and express consent.

Her form of consent was another play at self-sacrifice to keep others safe. _But at what cost to her will my taking her maidenhead play into her self-worth?_ When Jaime hovered over her in the bed, he felt a wave of shame and guilt crash over him.

His cock was hard and wanting and Jaime was disgusted with himself for it. His arms shook from trying to hold himself high enough from her body that she wouldn’t feel his shameful want. _Gods what is wrong with me? How can I be so eager when she is so upset?_

Jaime knew that he had to tell Brienne the truth of his feelings. He had to confess his love in this horrific setting. Selwyn’s words flooded his mind. _Don’t let her think she is unlovable and unloved_. Jaime worried at whether his love confession would help or hurt in the moment.

He thought bitterly about the situation. _Does he really matter if the man forcing himself on you loves you? This is cruel; even by Tywin’s standards._

As Jaime sat back on his heels, pleading to the Gods that Brienne would not be hurt by the confession he was about to make, they heard the scream. It was not a voice he recognized, but the sound of a woman screaming sent Jaime’s sense into high alert. Just as he could not force himself on a woman, he couldn’t sit by idly if a woman was in trouble.

Apparently, Brienne had the same idea. Both sprang from the bed and threw on their clothing. Pulling open the bedroom and moving to the hallway, Jaime observed the guards rushing towards the stairwell. With a confused look to Brienne, they both move forward to investigate the source of the scream.

Down the hallway, Jaime saw Sansa emerge from her room with an equally confused and concerned expression on her face. “What was that? Is everything alright?” Her eyes appraised their disheveled state, but neither Brienne nor Jaime answered.

Rounding the hallway corner towards the top of the stairs, all three came to an immediate halt. A small group of onlookers stood outside the door to Tywin’s office; their faces ashen and their bodies unmoving. Glancing to Brienne, Jaime could see the confusion writ across her face. Jaime imagined his own face a reflection of Brienne’s.

Jaime grabbed Brienne’s hand and squeezed it, offering what little reassurance he could provide given neither had any idea what awaited them. As they descended the steps, the group slowly turned and watched their approach.

The midwife glared and raised a finger to Brienne. “It was her! She was alone with Lord Tywin after I examined her. No one else has gone in since.”

Kevan shouted at one of the guards to arrest Brienne. Jaime felt panic course through him. “No one touch her! What is going on!?”

Stepping quickly in front of Brienne, Jaime moved down the stairs and looked into the study. His eyes went wide in shock at the vision before him. Tywin had been impaled between the eyes with Oathkeeper. His mouth had been stuffed to muffle any screams and his fingers had been individually removed.

Turning to look at Brienne, Jaime saw the shock register across her face when she caught sight of Tywin’s state. She muttered absently while looking to no one. “I didn’t do that.”

“I said detain her!” Kevan shouted and the guard moved quickly towards Brienne.

“Stand down! I am Lord of Casterly Rock now! This is my wife, and no one will touch her.” Jaime glared at Kevan as he spat the words. The guards didn’t know what to make of the situation and stood staring between the two Lannister men.

Oberyn raised a brow and looked to Jaime. “It seems you’re unable to remain impartial on the matter. She _is_ your wife after all. We all saw her come out of this room after being alone with Lord Tywin. We all know the threats made against both of you, so there is a motive. I’ve also heard that he attacked you this morning and your wife was quite defensive about it. I see no one else with a motive nor the opportunity to do this.”

“Brienne did not do this! She was not that long behind me after this midwife degraded her! Do you see what has been done to him!? How the fuck would she have had time to do all that!?” Jaime could barely conceal his rage. He was ready to lash out at anyone who dared come near him or Brienne.

Oberyn put up a defensive hand. “Lord Tywin is Hand of the king. This is not a matter for the West to sort out. This must be dealt with in the capital. Myself, Mace, and the guards who escorted us here will take her to King’s Landing. It matters not who is lord here.”

Kevan sneered at Jaime and took a menacing step forward. “Tywin shared with me the threats made by your wife’s goodfather too. There is too much evidence for her to remain here. I’m getting the guards.”

With that, Kevan turned and marched towards the castle exit. _Seven hells_. Jaime turned to Brienne and spoke commandingly. “Brienne, I need you to go to my room and bar the door.”

“I’m not leaving you down here like this.” Brienne’s tone was resolute, but her face still shone with shock. From the corner of his eye, Jaime saw Oberyn approach. His hand was at his dagger and he looked wary.

“Your wife needs to stay where she is. Lets not make this more difficult than it need be.” Panic coursed through Jaime as he realized that in his haste to leave the bedroom, he neglected to take his sword. Oathkeeper found itself out of commission given it was sheathed deep in Tywin’s skull.

Standing between Oberyn and Brienne, Jaime glared at the Dornish Prince. “Are you threatening my wife in her home?”

At Jaime’s words, the Lannister guards took a step forward and blocked Obery’s path; hands to their swords at the read. While Jaime and his uncle may battle for dominance over the guards, the Lannister men would never move against Jaime where it concerned Oberyn.

Seeing Jaime’s guards move to a defensive posture, Oberyn halted his progress. With the guards in front of him and Brienne behind him, Jaime spoke over his shoulder. “Brienne, you need to get upstairs, NOW!”

Sansa tugged at Brienne’s arm and pleaded with her. “Brienne. Please. Lets go upstairs.”

Jaime swallowed thickly and kept his eyes on Oberyn.

“Jaime.” Brienne’s voice sounded broken and it tore at Jaime’s heart.

“Brienne. Upstairs, please.” Jaime’s tone was imploring. He needed her to get somewhere safe from these ridiculous accusations.

“I don’t think so Lady Lannister.” The sound of Ellaria’s voice caught Jaime’s attention. Sansa shrieked as she stumbled backwards on the stairs.

Turning around, Jaime saw Ellaria Sand holding a knife to Brienne’s throat. The blade was tight against Brienne’s long, pale neck and the faintest drop of blood began to drip down from her chin. Before Jaime could react, Kevan came running in with the guards from King’s Landing.

“There! Arrest her. We depart for King’s Landing at once.” The guards surged forward and took Brienne from Ellaria. Moving quickly towards the door, Kevan looked to the Lannister guards. “Your lord has been murdered by this woman! I don’t care what Jaime says, you will not pursue us!”

Jaime grabbed a sword from one of the household guards and moved quickly at Kevan. With disgust in his eyes, Kevan barked at him. “You let this woman into our house! A woman who was accused of killing King Joffrey and now she has killed my brother! All because you are a fool blinded by love. If you send anyone after us, I will slit her throat myself!”

The look in Kevan’s eyes let Jaime know that it was not an idle threat. Jaime gritted his teeth and glared at Kevan. “I’m going with you! She will not face any trial without me there!”

His uncle sneered and looked down his nose at Jaime. “You will stay here… Lord Lannister. As I said, any pursuit will result in her death. You have my word on that. I will not risk my brother’s killer going free.” K

evan turned and marched out the door as the Lannister guards stood dumbfounded over what to do. One of the lead commanders approached Jaime hesitantly. “My lord. What would you have us do? They have the lady of the Rock.”

Jaime felt his body shake with rage. “Where is Lord Tarth!?”

The commander looked to the men; a general unease set in his features. When the man didn’t answer immediately, Jaime raised his voice to a level that would make Tywin quiver. “I am Lord of Casterly Rock now! You answer to me. Where is my goodfather!?”

The commander snapped to attention. “In the cells my lord.”

“Well then fetch him! We have a fucking fleet to assemble. Call the banners. We may not be able to give chase on land, but we will beat them to the capital by ship.”

Jaime marched towards Tywin’s study, a dark expression on his face. Turning to Sansa, he saw the fear in her eyes and tear stains on her cheeks. Trying to keep a calm tone about him, Jaime met the young woman’s eyes. “Where is Tyrion? Has he returned from wherever he went with my aunt?”

Sansa shook her head in denial. “I… I fell asleep not long after you left. It doesn’t appear he returned to the room. He would have woken me.”

Taking a deep breath, Jaime nodded. He knew that they likely went into Lannisport for the day. With all the final preparations for the wedding, Genna had been spending more and more time with the vendors in town to finalize details. It was late for her return, but not unreasonably so.

Considering how Sansa must have felt, Jaime tried to compose himself. “Just… I’ll be right back. Stay there and keep away from that room.” Jaime pointed to the study and watched as Sansa nodded slowly.

Moving into the study, Jaime shut the door behind him and took a moment to assess the scene. Moving around the desk, Jaime could see that Tywin’s fingers were not the only things removed before the fatal blow to his skull. He had been bound to the chair; his ankles severed and a pool of blood spread below his body.

 _Gods. What a painful way to go_. Despite the scene before him, Jaime felt nothing short of hatred for the man. He turned the chair to face him and grimaced at how the feet fell away at the movement. Bracing his foot on Tywin’s chest, Jaime yanked the sword out from his skull. Blood and brain matter sprayed everywhere.

Jaime looked around the room and spotted the sword belt and scabbard in the corner. Picking it up, Jaime run his thumb over the small sunbursts and lion heads embossed on the belt.

A wet sheen formed in his eyes as he considered how Brienne must be feeling. Unloved. Frightened. Confused. Shocked. Worried. _I need to get to her_.

Walking back out from the room, Jaime tucked the sword belt under his arm and concealed the sword behind his back so that Sansa wouldn’t catch a view of the gore lining the steel.

Yelling for an attendant, Jaime called for a cloth to wipe down the sword, and a large linen to be draped over Tywin’s body. As much as Jaime held little love for his father in the moment, he didn’t want his aunt seeing that.

Moments later, the attendant came scurrying back with the cloth before ducking inside to cove the body. Wiping the sword down, Jaime placed it back into the scabbard and sat on the steps next to Sansa. His mind and heart were at war.

Jaime knew he couldn’t give chase to his uncle. Brienne’s life was on the line and Jaime would be a fool to challenge Kevan on his word. In his heart, Jaime knew that action must be taken. Cersei would use this opportunity to destroy Brienne in the most painful way possible.

 _Cersei_. Something hit Jaime in that moment. Something dark and frightful to consider. _She had a part in this. I’m certain of it._

Before he could think on it further, the guards came around the corner from the stairwell that lead down to the cells. It took a few of them, but they dragged a half-conscious Selwyn with them. The older lord was covered in blood and bruises. His clothing was torn and his person disheveled. _Gods!_

“Take him to his room upstairs!” Jaime gave the command and looked around for a staff member. _Where the fuck is everyone?_ When he finally spotted someone, Jaime waved the young woman down and told her to fetch the maester.

“Have the maester brought to Selwyn’s assigned room and provide anything necessary for healing the man. I want to be called on when Lord Tarth is awake.” The young woman curtseyed and offered a quiet “Yes, m’lord” before scurrying off carry out his orders. Jaime moved towards the great hall to grab a jug of water to have brought to Selwyn’s room. As he pushed open the door, he was shocked at what he saw.

The lead commanders from the Stormlands had been killed over a hot meal. There were no traces of stab wounds, but their faces looked like Joff’s at the wedding. Purple, bloodshot eyes, and foaming mouths. _What has Tywin done?_

Backing up slowly from the room, Jaime closed the door and looked to Sansa who remained seated on the stairs. When the young woman’s eyes met his, a question on her face likely stemming from the loss of blood in his own, Jaime shook his head slowly. “Don’t go in there either.”

_What the fuck happened!? What has Tywin done!?_

“Jaime. What is going on?” Sansa’s voice was thick with fear. Tears returned to her face and Jaime felt his heart break for the girl. She has seen so much horror thanks to my family. Jaime crouched before her and grabbed her hand. “It will be alright. I’ll figure this out. I’ll get Brienne back.”

Standing and looking around, Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose and began pacing wildly in front of Sansa. _Gods. Where to even begin_. Before Jaime could open his mouth to tell Sansa what he knew, Genna and Tyrion came storming through the castle doors with Joy and Janei following closely.

Genna was a storm of emotions as she charged towards Jaime and grabbed his arm. “The guards are screaming through the streets that Tywin is dead. Where is my brother!?”

Tyrion moved quickly to Sansa and sat beside her. He pulled Sansa to him and offered soothing words. Looking to his family, Jaime took a deep breath and shared everything that had happened. Everyone’s eyes were wide in horror when they heard what Tywin had done.

When Jaime informed them of how Tywin was found, he feared that they too would turn on Brienne. To Jaime’s relief and surprise, Genna took a step forward. Her eyes shone with anger and betrayal.

“Kevan had no place taking Brienne from our safety! He is marching her to death. This was a setup. I see it now. Tywin bid us all go into the city with an absurd list of items to attend to. Any fucking staff member could have done that. He knew what he was doing, but obviously he didn’t know what someone else was plotting. I pray to the Seven that Kevan wasn’t part of this or I fear the Seven Hells will be run by Lannisters within the next moon turn.”


	19. Deceitful Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne's group makes camp after the first day of riding. Oberyn approaches her and they have a strange conversation.

Were it not for the rise and fall of the sun, Brienne would not have known a day had passed since she was taken from the Rock. As they stopped to camp for the night, Brienne felt numb emotionally at the weight of it all. She had failed everyone.

She failed to keep her oath and guard Lady Sansa with her life. Now the young Stark was stuck at Casterly Rock in what was obviously a dangerous situation.

She failed to keep her father safe. _I should have left with him straight away; gone across the Narrow Sea and made everyone’s lives easier. I shouldn’t have let him go talk to Jaime. I put him in an impossible situation._

She failed to keep Jaime’s well-being at heart. He had already done more for her than anyone ever had or every would _. I never should have accepted his kindness to save myself._ _I should have fought for myself. If I lost, so be it. At least I hurt no one else in the process_.

The painful reminder of her childhood lessons echoed in her head. There will be no knight coming to rescue someone such as yourself. Someone unlovable. Someone unworthy.

Brienne had been so caught up in Jaime’s insistence and past daring rescues that she failed to consider what those acts of bravery cost him. He risked his safety, well-being, and happiness for her _. Because of me, he has already lied to his family and earned their ire. Because of me, he felt forced to do things that he ordinarily never would._

As their party stopped for the night, Brienne was handed a small piece of bread by Myrcella Baratheon. Brienne’s shackled wrists fumbled at the meager offering and fell into the mud. _Seven hells_. The young princess looked to her with pity and offered a piece of her own, but Brienne waved her off.

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine. You eat. I don’t imagine this group has packed much in way of provisions.” Brienne knew how much the girl meant to Jaime. She had been surprised to see the princess and her betrothed in the group traveling to the capital. _Mayhap they only arrived yesterday? I hadn’t seen them at the keep._

Jaime’s uncle paced wildly in the distance. If he looks could kill, Brienne would be dead ten times over. _I’ve never even seen this man before and he hates me more than Tywin did. In fairness, I suppose he believes me to be his brother’s killer_.

Mace struck Brienne as little more than a bumbling fool. He tried to make small talk with the guards, Kevan, Oberyn, and Ellaria, but the group had little interest. On Myrcella and Tyrstane offered an ear.

Oberyn and Ellaria kept away from Brienne that first day on the road. For a pair so adamant to see Brienne arrested, they were keen to avoid her. Brienne had expected them to look at her with contempt as Kevan did, but they seemed indifferent.

Brienne struggled at trying to understand Oberyn’s relationship with the crown. On the one hand, he was a member of the small council. His nephew was betrothed to Princess Myrcella and seemed a sweet boy. A perfect match for the princess.

On the other hand, Oberyn had fought and killed the Mountain. Jaime told her that neither Tywin nor Cersei had been pleased with the outcome, but yet somehow the man continued to serve in the capital. _Mayhap it was because he championed Tyrion?_ _I suppose it would be bad form if Oberyn was shunned by Tywin for saving his own son?_

As the night went on, Ellaria sat by the fire and spoke sternly with Myrcella and Trystane. Mace had finally caught Kevan’s ear as they drank and ate the food the guards had caught. Brienne was at least pleased to see the princess and her betrothed being fed more than the previously offered bread.

Brienne had been tied to a tree far away from the campfire. The cool night air sent a shiver up her spine and she wondered if they would at least move her closer to sleep.

Approaching footsteps caught Brienne’s attention. Oberyn Martell sat on a tree stump just feet away. The Dronish prince appraised her with a neutral stare and looked back to the larger group in the distance. Turning back to Brienne, he spoke in hushed tones.

“Are you alright, my lady?” Brienne snorted at the words. _‘My lady’. Only Jaime calls me that and I can never tell if he means it mockingly or truly._

“Define ‘alright’. I’ve been falsely accused of killing the Hand of the King by the very family who seeks to falsely accuse me of killing the last king.” Brienne’s voice was bitter yet resigned. 

Oberyn raised a brow at her and an expression flitted across his face that Brienne could not read. “Yes, I know. I’m sorry for that.”

 _What!?_ “You know me to be innocent and yet you march me to my death?”

With a nonchalant shrug, Oberyn smiled at her. “Yes and no. Unfortunately, you are a means to an end. I have a list of people who mean to harm my kin or who have harmed my kin. The Mountain. Tywin Lannister. Cersei Lannister.”

Brienne’s eyes narrowed at Oberyn and she tried to work out his meaning. The man again looked back to the group and inched closer to her. “Cersei planned this all. She strategized a way for me to gain access to Tywin and she asked that I implicate you. A way to seal your fate and subsequently Jaime’s. She knows he will be your champion. That is why I had to ensure he would not follow. Luckily, Kevan beat me to it.”

“Why are you doing this to us? Jaime and I have done you no harm.”

“No, you have not. No harm will come to either of you. You have my word. I just need to follow Cersei’s plan to keep her trust. _Do not_ request a trial by combat. Me, Ellaria, and Qyburn are going to testify against her and tell of her plan to frame you. We will say we came to the wedding to try and prevent what happened. Ellaria and I will claim to have seen a sellsword go into Tywin’s office to kill him. We have a way to discredit the midwife. I wouldn’t worry about her. She scowls less if you get her in the right mood.” Oberyn flashed a wolfish smile as he met Brienne’s eyes.

“But the others. Kevan looks like he wants to slit my throat here and now. Mace was there too when I exited the room with Tywin.”

Oberyn chuckled. “Mace is an idiot. He won’t testify and if he does, he confuses easy. Kevan on the other hand only saw you exit, but he never saw our imaginary sellsword enter while you bedded your new husband. Kevan did not return to the Keep until the _after_ midwife screamed. Ellaria and I saw that _scoundrel_ sellsword.”

Again, the Viper smiled dangerously before continuing. “We all heard Tywin threaten you. You were powerless and immediately sent off to do as he bid. Ser Jaime was quick thinking. You never had time for all that nonsense in the study. Trust me. This trial will be quick and painless… for you. Cersei, I cannot guarantee.”

Brienne considered his words, but hesitated. “Why should I trust you? You were eager to frame me when you knew me innocent.”

Oberyn conceded the point with a nod of the head but met her eyes. “I do not wish to see innocents murdered for the crimes of another. You have no reason to trust me, but you have no chance to survive if you don’t.”

 _Seven hells_. With a suggestive look, Oberyn threw a piece of bread into his mouth. “I apologize that we didn’t give you longer to enjoy the night with your new husband. I was quite eager to meet with my old friend in the study, but he bled out too fast. I wanted him to feel the sword going through his head and I couldn’t risk him dying sooner.”

Brienne’s face flushed a deep red. “I assure you, there was nothing to interrupt. Ser Jaime married me to save me. As you said, everyone heard Tywin threaten me. Ser Jaime is just a good man.”

“Yes, he is a good man. I was surprised to hear of his slaying Aerys. He was always kind to my sister and the children. Elia had told me as much when I asked after her.” Oberyn laughed and looked to the sky. “Cersei tried to blame him for that too; Elia’s death that is. The queen mother is quite eager to rid Westeros of you and your lion lover. You made quite the enemy by stealing away her brother.”

Again, Oberyn’s brows rose suggestively. _What is this fool on about?_

“I did not steal Jaime away from Cersei. He left her on his own. It had nothing to do with me.”

Oberyn chuckled and shook his head. “My lady, are you blind or willingly ignorant?” Brienne felt her blood boil. “Do not mock me.”

“I mean you no offense. Anyone can see the way he longs for you. I suppose if you enjoy that type of thing… monogamy… it is quite romantic.” The Dornish man placed another piece of bread in his mouth and looked back to the camp.

“I best get back. Here.” Oberyn handed Brienne some more bread and winked at her. “You’ll be back with your lion lover soon enough.”

Brienne felt a mix of emotions course through her veins as she watched Oberyn saunter back to the main camp. Anger, shock, confusion, and unease.

 _They used us. They used us to they could have their revenge_. _Why not take it your own way and leave innocents out of it?_

They didn’t come back for her that night as they all tucked into their bedrolls. Even when she hated Jaime during their time in the Riverlands, she could never do _that_ to him. She would tie him to a tree at night so he wouldn’t kill her in sleep, but she tied him in a way that enabled him to lay down. She kept the fire close enough so he wouldn’t freeze.

The ropes around Brienne’s arms were tight and her chained wrists made it difficult to keep her hands from freezing. Brienne tried to tuck her legs up towards her core to keep warm, but nothing would do. Try as she might, she couldn’t fall asleep like that.

It was the only thing that enabled her to hear the approaching horses. Knowing Oberyn’s plan, Brienne wasn’t certain if she longed for rescue or feared it. _Rescue_. _Why would I think such a thing? No one will come for me and it isn’t worth the risk to anyone’s life. Best that they stay at the Rock_. _Free from my association, they can all live comfortably and safely._

Squinting into the night, she could see the riders near. The guard on duty began to scream for aid, but it was too late. _Gods. The dolt must have fallen asleep to see and hear them so late_. _They ride from the east. Who in the east would be attacking them? Mayhap they just mean to pass through?_

Then, Brienne heard swords slicing through flesh. _Gods. I’m going to die tied to a tree._ Brienne watched as Oberyn ran towards her and began slicing through her ropes with a dagger. “You need to run! Run west towards the rock and do not stop until you see the lions.”

 _Run!? I’m a fucking day’s ride and I have no horse!_ Brienne began to run weaponless, chained, and confused. _Gods, is this how hopeless Jaime felt under my escort?_ Darting through the trees, a thought hit her. _Myrcella. I can’t leave her._

Stopping her progress, Brienne turned back towards the camp. On approach, she could see soldiers assaulting the back of their party. Ellaria Sand fought bravely, but a sword pierced through her neck and exited the other end.

Brienne ducked low behind some bushes and tried desperately to spot Myrcella. The young girl was cowering behind a tree and mere feet from the lifeless body of her betrothed. _Shit_.

Circling around the camp, Brienne called out in hushed tones to the girl. The girl’s long golden locks fell into her face as she turned to see Brienne. With a finger to her lips, Brienne beckoned the girl towards her. 

Myrcella moved quickly and Brienne grabbed her arm, darting back into the dense forest and away from the small clearing where the fighting raged on, Brienne urged the girl higher up the mountainous path.

They moved quietly through the forest, but they didn’t get far before Brienne heard the hounds. Looking to Myrcella, Brienne saw fear in the girl’s eyes. “I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe.”

Myrcella’s eyes went wide at the words, but she nodded in understanding. Looking around frantically, Brienne tried to find a stream where the hounds would lose their scent.

Moving through the woods, Brienne’s eyes darted left and right. It was a cloudy night and difficult to see. Both women stumbled several times as they tried to escape, but the hounds closed in rapidly. It was hopeless and Brienne knew it.

I must keep her safe. She is innocent in this. Her death would destroy Jaime. Coming to a halt, Brienne grabbed Myrcella with her chained hands. “Listen to me, we can’t outrun them. I’ll stay here and let them find me. You run as fast as you can. We’re in the West. These are your people. Seek shelter and then get back to the Rock. Wade through any stream you can find. Find a horse if you can.”

Myrcella shook her head; panic in her eyes. “What about you?”

“I’m no one of consequence. Your loved ones can’t lose you. Go.” Brienne pushed the girl away with her hands and watched as she ran into the darkness of night.

Taking a deep breath, Brienne moved back in the direction they had come. Once she felt there was enough distance between herself and Myrcella, Brienne stood and waited as the hounds came closer. Closing her eyes and steadying her breathing, Brienne tried to think of fond memories to die with.

None came. It had been the same in the bear pit. Brienne tried to find a positive image to die with, pressed into her mind. Now, instead of the men cheering and singing, she heard dogs barking. The sound grew closer and she braced for impact. _Don’t be a coward. Open your eyes and face it_. Instead of a bear clawing at her, it was dogs biting into her.

Brienne was dragged to the ground by several hounds. They tore into her flesh as she kicked and screamed. Dogs bit at her legs and arms. One bit at her head producing the warm rush of blood from her skull.

Then, mercifully, it stopped. Someone called off the hounds. “She’s here! We got one of ‘em!”

Two men stood over Brienne and sneered down at her. “It’s the ugly one! We got the big bitch.” Grabbing her by the arms and yanking her upright, they moved back to the camp. The hounds circled around and began to move towards where Myrcella had run off, but one of the men called out.

“Come ‘ere ya dumb mutts! We got ‘er!” The hounds ran back towards them and nipped at Brienne’s heels. Brienne prayed to the Seven that Myrcella was far enough away. That she took Brienne’s advice. Found a stream to walk through until she found help.

Returning to the camp, Brienne gasped in horror as she saw a soldier hacking away at Trystane’s head. Another growled at the soldier. “Don’t fuck up his face. They need to know its him!”

Brienne was shoved forward into the camp and pushed to her knees beside Oberyn. With a sorrowful look, the Viper met Brienne’s eyes and shook his head. Looking to her arms, Brienne could see the blood soaking through her tunic where the dogs had bitten her arms. Her head throbbed and she could feel the warmth of fresh blood dripping down her neck.

From the shadows, three figures approached. Taking a moment to appraise everything around her, Brienne realized whose men these were. Sigils of the Vale, the Twins, and the Boltons came into view.

Moving to stand before her, Brienne looked up to see a Bolton man she didn’t recognize, Baelish, and the midwife. Baelish crouched before her, a sly smile on his face. “Lady Brienne. We meet again. Congratulations on the wedding by the way. Lannister affairs have been so exciting of late. I regret that I couldn’t attend.”

The man beside Baelish looked at Brienne menacingly. “So, this is the one we will exchange for my bride?”


	20. A Changing Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa has a lot to say and Selwyn wakes up.

Unhinged. That is the only way that Sansa could think to describe Jaime over the last day. Like a lion trapped in a cage, Jaime paced fitfully throughout the keep. He had called the banners to make their way to the Rock at once, but no one could move fast enough for his liking.

His plan was simple, sail to King’s Landing with the Stormlands and rescue Brienne. So long as they left within a few days, they should arrive not long after Kevan’s group. With favorable wins, they may even arrive around the same time.

Sansa worried at the plan _. Is it truly that simple? Nothing is every simple in Westeros_.

They young Stark walked down the hallway towards Selwyn’s room. The Lannisters had been taking shifts sitting at the older lord’s bedside. Fortunately the maester said that Selwyn would be fine, but the man had been badly beaten and had yet to regain consciousness.

Entering the room, Sansa saw Jaime sitting hunched over in a chair facing Selwyn. His head was cradled in his hands; one flesh and one gold. Genna stood by the balcony and looked out to the sea. Her face looked weary from what Sansa assumed to be lack of sleep.

 _Jaime. Poor Jaime_. When Jaime wasn’t raging, he was moping. Despairing over Brienne and wondering if there was something more that he could have done to save her. Something more to stop Kevan.

Genna knew Jaime had the right of it. Kevan would have slit Brienne’s throat had Jaime charged in, but that didn’t stop Jaime from scrutinizing himself. Agonizing over what could have been.

Sansa had been horrified to hear what Tywin did to them; particularly to Brienne. Sansa was disgusted that Tywin tried to use their love against them. To use the other as a threat and then violate that love with forced intimacy.

It saddened Sansa to hear how Jaime felt of the night’s events. Thinking his love unrequited, Jaime worried that Brienne hated him. Thought him a monster for attempting to comply with Tywin’s request.

She had to tell him the truth of it. Sansa needed Jaime to know that Brienne was not repulsed by him. Quite the opposite in truth.

With a light knock to alert the Lannisters to her presence, Sansa moved into the room. “How is he?”

Jaime sighed and shook his head. “No change.”

Sansa pursed her lips and glanced fleetingly to the older lord. “I need to tell you something. Something that bothered me about your interpretation of yesterday’s events.”

At her words, Jaime’s brows furrowed. Genna moved slowly towards the center of the room and stared at Sansa.

“You said that you wouldn’t _rape_ Brienne. You said that you worried she thought you a monster for considering the bedding to try and save her. I know you had big _plans_ for last night before everything happened.” Sansa raised a knowing brow at Jaime whose face flushed slightly. His eyes flickered to his aunt who looked confused by the conversation she was hearing.

Taking a deep breath, Sansa looked back to Jaime. “Your love is not unrequited. Brienne would never think you a monster.”

Jaime’s eyes widened. “She told you that?”

“Well… no, but I can tell!” At Sansa’s words, Jaime’s face fell. “Oh. Well, thank you for sharing your _perceptions_.”

Genna let out a loud guffaw. “Truly, you and Brienne are the biggest dolts, Jaime. Do either of you know how to form sentences around the other? I confronted the girl on it the first day you arrived. I could tell you loved her, but I wanted to know if it was returned. Of course, I noticed things too, but I wanted to hear it from her. She avoided the question like your sister avoids a feast with no wine. I pressed her on it though and she _did_ admit it.” 

Jaime stared dumbfounded at Genna. “She… she loves me?”

Sansa and Genna exchanged a longsuffering glance. _Seven hells_. Sansa chuckled and rubbed her forehead. “Do you really think I would have helped you yesterday if I thought her repulsed by you?”

A flicker of hope appeared in Jaime’s eyes and a faint smile tugged at his lips. Then his face fell again. “Well a lot of good I’ve done her lately. Now Kevan has her, and marches her straight to death at the hands of my cunt sister.”

Genna sighed and moved next to Jaime, rubbing a soothing hand through his short, golden hair. “We’ll get her back. If Cersei does have her hands in this, we’ll deal with her accordingly.”

“I know she’s involved in this. It’s what she does. She ruins everything good in this world, just like father did.”

With a slight grimace, Genna pulled Jaime’s head against her. “He wasn’t _always_ that way, Jaime. He was a good older brother to me. He protected me and our family. He just lost himself after your mother passed. Grew colder and crueler. Your sister on the other hand…”

“We were eight Genna! Maybe Cersei wouldn’t have been such a monster if my father didn’t lead by example.”

“That’s not true, Jaime. _You_ have never been like them. You are your mother’s son.”

Before they could continue to debate the matter, an attendant came into the room. “My lord. A raven flew in from King’s Landing.” Sansa narrowed her eyes at the missive in the man’s hand. The unbroken seal of the Baratheon king reminded her too much of Joffrey. Sansa wondered if this was about yesterday’s events. _But how would they have known already?_

Jaime moved quickly to the man and took the letter. Breaking the seal, Jaime squinted and rubbed his eyes them vigorously. Genna huffed and took it from Jaime’s hand; a sympathetic look on her face.

“I know you _can_ , Jaime. This will just be faster.”

Looking at the missive, Genna read it out loud.

_Grandfather,_

_I haven’t heard back since my last missive. Not only has the Faith Militant come for Loras and Margery, but now they have come for mother. All three are in the High Sparrow’s custody and I’m not been allowed to see them until they atone._

_Mother is accused of incest; sleeping with cousin Lancel. He has admitted to his sins and is one of the sparrows now._

_Lady Olenna says mother convinced the sparrow to arrest Loras and Margery. Do you know about this? Please Grandfather, what should I do?_

_Tommen_

With a heavy sigh, Genna looked at Jaime cautiously. “Your sister is not patient. She could never focus on one enemy at a time. Now the imbecile has gone and gotten herself arrested.”

Jaime scoffed and shook his head. “Good. Let them have their way with her. This is good though! Tommen won’t hurt Brienne. I need to write and explain what happened.”

Genna did not look so convinced and Sansa couldn’t blame her. All this did was buy them time. Tommen would need to do something with a furious Kevan showing up, demanding a trial. Oberyn and the midwife were adamant that Brienne did this and Tommen was too timid to stand up to them.

Then the thought came to Sansa. Oberyn and the midwife. The both came from King’s Landing with Tywin’s party. Oberyn hated Tywin. Tyrion had said as much. The midwife wouldn’t have been someone Tywin would have known. Unless… _Cersei_.

Sansa gasped as it all came together. “Tyrion. We need Tyrion. I think I know what is going on.”

Genna and Jaime looked to her immediately. A slight confusion writ across their faces. Genna grabbed Sansa’s arm and looked her in the eyes; appraising her as though reading her soul. “I’ll get him. Wait right here.”

Sansa began pacing and thinking everything through in her mind. It was all starting to make sense. Tyrion was the smartest man she knew. She needed to bounce the idea off him and see what he thought. Help her figure out what to do.

When Genna returned with Tyrion, Sansa nearly jumped with excitement. “Good! I think I know what is going on. Tyrion, I need that brain of yours. Here me out.”

As the three Lannisters looked at her eagerly, Sansa began to tell them her idea.

“Tyrion, you once said that Oberyn is a man motivated by revenge. He wanted to avenge his sister and her children. That is why he championed you against the Mountain. Didn’t you say he had it out for others involved too? Did Tywin have something to do with it? You said Oberyn didn’t like Lannisters nor him.”

Tyrion pointed excitedly at Sansa. “Yes! He even alluded to it during their match. He pointed at my father and yelled at the Mountain, ‘Who gave the order!? Say it!’ and then he killed Ser Gregor.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide. “Oberyn was in the study for the wedding. He claimed to have seen Brienne come out after I was already upstairs. He could have gone in and killed him. He certainly would have had the time to torture father and it wouldn’t have been a shock for father to see Oberyn entering. He wouldn’t have assumed an attack was coming.”

Tyrion nodded eagerly. “You said the spear was through father’s head? That is how Oberyn killed the Mountain. A spear through the skull. You would have to be quite strong to get the sword through like that.”

Sansa nodded. “And the midwife. Why wouldn’t Tywin send for a midwife when arriving here? Why would he even _think_ of that? He doesn’t strike me as a man who cares to understand a woman’s anatomy. That woman came with them all the way from King’s Landing. It isn’t as though it is a rare practice. Unless… she came _highly_ recommended.”

At her words, Jaime paled. “Gods. You’re right. How could I forget. I _knew_ I recognized her from somewhere. That is Cersei’s godsdamned midwife!”

Genna beamed at Sansa and cupped her cheeks. “Good girl! Between you and Tyrion, no one will outsmart our pride! Between Jaime and Brienne, no one will fuck with us either!”

Jaime began pacing wildly near the balcony. “Fuck! I’m so fucking stupid!”

In a fit of rage Jaime kicked one of the chairs and it went flying into the wall. The force knocked over a vase that had been set out near the balcony.

Genna growled at Jaime. “Gods boy! Control yourself. Always such a hothead!” 

A low moan came from the bed as the ruckus died down. All heads snapped to Selwyn who was coming to and reaching for his head.

“Sel! Thank the Gods. Wake up man!” Genna was immediately at Selwyn’s side, leaning over him and tapping his cheek.

“Gods, my head. I’ll kill your damn brother.”

With a sigh, Genna looked back to Sansa, Tyrion, and Jaime. “Someone beat you to it. You’ve missed a lot old friend.”

Moving quickly to the hallway, Genna bellowed for an attendant. As a young woman came running towards her and curtseyed, Genna shook her head. “No time for all that. Fetch the maester. Be quick about it.”

Sansa moved closer to the bed and smiled sadly at Selwyn. The older lord’s face was covered in bruises and swollen. He could only open one eye and struggled to adjust his eyes to the sunlight.

“Brienne?”

Sansa looked back to Jaime whose face gave Selwyn the only answer he needed. “I’m sorry. They took her. I’ll get her back. I swear it.”

“Who?”

Tyrion moved beside Sansa and looked down sympathetically at Brienne’s father. He quickly explained what they knew. What Tywin had done. What had happened to Brienne. What had happened to Cersei. The news that Cersei was in custody of the Faith Militant was the only visible relief on the older lord’s face.

Genna moved around the bed and pulled up a chair as the maester came in to check Selwyn over. They helped prop him up slightly against the pillows and Sansa chuckled as the older lord swatted the maester away. “I’m fine! I need to get to my daughter.”

The maester began to protest but was quickly cut off by Selwyn. “My lord, you’re in no condition….”

“Oh do shut up! I’m fine! They have MY DAUGHTER. I will walk to King’s Landing if that’s what it takes.” Selwyn flopped back in pain as the pulsing veins in his head sent pain throughout his body.

Genna sighed and dismissed the maester. “Sel, what do you remember? What happened?”

Taking a steadying breath, Selwyn recounted what he remembered. He pointed at Jaime as he began. “I went and spoke to the boy. Told him that Brienne was willing to let me take her across the Narrow Sea to live out her days if he promised to watch over the young wolf here. Well… _he_ didn’t much like that idea.”

Selwyn huffed a laugh and glanced to Jaime before continuing. “I agreed not to secret her out and I was headed back to my room to tell Brienne that her friend here did not care for the plan. On the way, Tywin stopped me. Asked me to come to his study to speak without the children.”

Sansa watched as the older lord pinched the bridge of his nose in obvious pain. Selwyn sucked in another breath and continued. “I saw Kevan and that midwife you mentioned. They came into the office and shared their supposed evidence of what Brienne did to Joffrey. Tywin produced this vial that he claimed to find in Brienne’s belongings. They said that if I didn’t sign the consent for Brienne and Jaime to marry, that they would have her executed.”

At the mention of the vial, Tyrion interrupted. “They must have brought the poison from King’s Landing. Brienne had no belongings save her armor and sword. Well… not that anyone in this room would have believed my father’s nonsense.”

“They looked like Joff.” Jaime made the comment almost absently. His face scrunching in disgust. “Their faces. All… swollen and purple. Their eyes were bloodshot.”

Sansa glared at Jaime. _Not now, Jaime. He just woke up._

“Whose faces?” Everyone turned to look at Selwyn. The older lord’s brows furrowed in concern. Genna looked at Jaime with vexation writ across her face. “Truly, Jaime? Now?”

Sansa looked back to Tywin and offered a compassionate smile. “They killed your top men. Poisoned them at dinner it seems.”

A loud growl pushed past Selwyn’s lips. “I will fucking kill them all! I’m sorry Genna, but If I could raise your brother from the dead, I would kill him again!”

Jaime spoke commandingly from the foot of the bed. “I’ve called the full might of the West. We’ll sail both of our fleets to King’s Landing. We’ll get Brienne back and murder everyone who had anything to do with this. I swear it.”

With a resigned sigh, Selwyn leaned back and crossed his arm. “Well how soon will they be here!? I’m ready to go.”

Jaime huffed in shared annoyance. “Given the size of the west, the last of them should be here in 3 or 4 days assuming the ravens arrived today. We’ll get them on the boats and leave immediately. We’re going to write Tommen in advance. He isn’t to hold any trial until we get there. We’ll likely arrive around the same time as Kevan. Maybe a day or two later. Tommen is kind. He won’t let harm befall her.”

Selwyn nodded in understanding and sighed heavily. “Do the rest of my men know?”

Genna nodded. “We called up your next most senior men. They are aware of what happened including Tywin’s death. They’re on the way and will stay here in this wing of the castle with you. I hope they’ll eat the damn food we serve, but I would hardly blame them if they didn’t.”

They sat and spoke with Selwyn a while longer until they could tell the older lord needed rest. On the way out, he asked for Jaime to remain back for a moment. Sansa spared a glance back at the two. Jaime pulled a chair close in a scene reminiscent of how Sansa found Jaime sitting earlier.

Later that night, long after everyone had eaten dinner in the hall, Sansa and Tyrion made their way back towards their room. Jaime had excused himself some time ago and Sansa could tell by the look on his face that he was not handling everything well.

“Mayhap we should check on your brother?”

Tyrion raised a brow and smiled. “Oh, are your worried about _our_ brother, my lady wife?” The shared a small laugh together, but Sansa soon felt her mirth fade as she considered Tyrion’s question. “Yes. He seemed off tonight.”

With a resigned sigh, Tyrion shook his head. “I noticed the same. He will likely get worse until all the bannermen arrive and they move out. Then he will be back to pacing and angry.”

Making their way towards Jaime’s room, Sansa noticed that his door was open and devoid of candlelight. By contrast, Brienne’s room had the door closed. Looking to Tyrion, they both thought the same thing. _Gods. He is sleeping in her room._

Tyrion opened the room and they saw the outline of Jaime on the bed. He was laying on his stomach and his head was turned towards the balcony.

“Jaime? Are you alright?”

“No.” His voice sounded like a petulant child whose toy had been taken away.

Tyrion rolled his eyes and looked back at Sansa. Inclining his head towards the bed, they made their way over. “Why are you in here?”

“My room isn’t Brienne enough.”

Tyrion snorted and turned to Sansa; a small smile stretching across his face. “I don’t think being in here is going to help you, Jaime. It will only make you feel more miserable.”

When Jaime next spoke, his voice sounded smaller. “I can’t go in there. It’s where… I just see that look on her face. And the pillow in here smells like her. And the sheets. And if I squeeze my eyes hard enough, I can see her. She only looks happy in here.”

Sansa felt her heart break for Jaime. It was unbelievable to think how much her opinion of him had changed in such a relatively short period of time. Placing a consoling hand on his back, Sansa spoke softly. The type of tone her mother oft used with her when she was upset or sick.

“When I was little, I was very close to my father. I was his first daughter of course and until Arya was born, I didn’t have to share him. He was harder on the boys and I could do no wrong in his eyes. My mother always said that I had him wrapped around my finger.” Sansa chuckled slightly and glanced to Tyrion. His eyes looked so soft and it made her stomach flutter.

“When he would go away for weeks at a time to visit the vassals, I would sneak into my mother’s bed. I mostly just wanted to lay on his pillow and be in _his_ space. It was the only time my mother allowed me in the bed. When he was away. To make me feel better… and herself, I think… she always told me to think of the last time we laughed together. She told me to tell her the story and it made us both laugh and briefly forget how sad the castle was without him.”

Jaime’s voice was slightly teasing. “I would have preferred visiting when he _wasn’t_ there.” Sansa chuckled and swatted his back playfully.

“When was the last time you and Brienne laughed?”

A momentary silence settled over the room. Then Jaime started to speak. “The night before my father showed up.”

Sansa leaned over slightly to see a small smile spread across Jaime’s face. “What happened?”

“Well… I invited myself in at night. I told her that my childhood toys were having a melee in my room and it was too distracting.” Tyrion and Sansa snorted and rolled their eyes.

“She told me that I’m an idiot, but she let me come in. She always does. I saw that my aunt had the seamstress send up another dress. Of course, Brienne had thrown it in the corner. I told her that it wasn’t that bad even though it was. It was horrible. She told me, ‘Alright princess, if you think it isn’t so bad, you wear it.’ So… as a joke I did. Well… I tried to, but my shoulders were too broad and I got stuck. She couldn’t stop laughing at me, so then I couldn’t stop laughing. She has the best laugh. I guess we were too loud though because Genna came by. She wasn’t very happy which probably didn’t help our inability to stop laughing. It took both of them to get me out of it and it tore. Genna was pissed.”

 _Oh Gods. They are too ridiculous and too pure_. Jaime was chuckling at the memory of it. With a warm smile, Sansa patted his back again. “Now hold onto that feeling. Remember it and think of it until you’re with her again. Then make a new memory.”

When they eventually left, Jaime was in better spirits. They had spent some time talking to him and sharing different stories. He soon fell asleep which Tyrion and Sansa took as a sign of a job well done. Clapping hands as they got in the hallway, they walked to their room together.

“Do you want to try on one of my dresses?” Sansa teased and looked to Tyrion. The smile on his face was contagious as he looked to her and laughed. “I would likely look like one of your dolls, but with horribly disheveled hair. Can you imagine it?”

They shared another laugh together and slipped into their room. Curling up in one another’s arms, Sansa allowed herself to imagine a world where she and Tyrion had what Jaime and Brienne did.

The next morning, Sansa and Tyrion made their way downstairs to break their fast. To their surprise, Jaime was there and looking well rested. It was a welcome relief and a part of Sansa felt good that she and Tyrion helped make that happen.

He was drinking some water and needling Genna. It was almost as though Brienne was there with him. Taking their seats, Tyrion and Sansa began to eat as they exchanged warm smiles throughout the meal. As their plates were nearly empty, chaos erupted in the entryway.

All four of them stopped what they were doing and moved towards the hallway. To their shock, the guards ran through the door with Princess Myrcella at their side. The girl looked a fright. Her hair, face, and clothing were filthy. As she caught sight of her kin, tears began to roll down her cheeks.

From Sansa’s side, Jaime spoke in confusion. “Myrcella?” The Lannister brothers moved quickly towards her as the young woman fell to her knees sobbing. “They attacked us. They killed everyone. They killed Trystane and Ellaria. They killed the guards and Uncle Kevan.”

Jaime and Tyrion engulfed the princess and tried to calm her, but Sansa could see the fear in Jaime’s eyes.

“Was there a woman with you? Tall, blonde, likely scowling.”

“Yes, the woman they were escorting as prisoner. She saved me. She pulled me through the woods and then distracted the hounds so that I could get away from them.” 

Jaime’s voice was laced with panic as he held Myrcellla by the shoulders. “Did you see who attacked you? Any sigils?”

The young princess nodded in affirmation. “It was dark, but I was hiding behind a tree after they killed Trystane. He tried to hide me. I saw a falcon… the Vale! Then the Frey’s sigil. The Twin Towers. Then there was one more, but I didn’t recognize it.”

Tyrion’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Myrcella. “What did it look like?”

The princess took a deep breath and looked between the two men. “It looked like a man… upside down. A red man.”

Jaime paled and sat back on his heels; his words came out more a whisper than statement. “The Boltons.”


	21. Memories in the Riverlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne hears Baelish's plans and their group makes their way north.

Brienne sat atop a horse with Oberyn behind her. They were bound back to back in a position akin to what Locke’s men did to Brienne and Jaime, but the feel was all wrong.

Oberyn was much shorter than Jaime. His shoulder blades pressed awkwardly into her back and his head jolted against her neck. It served as a constant reminder of how alone she was despite another person’s physical proximity.

The Dornish Prince was also a silent captive. He huffed and sighed from time to time, but hardly spoke a word. By comparison, Jaime never shut up.

 _I don’t think Jaime has stopped talking since the day we met_. _‘It’s a long way to King’s Landing. Might as well get to know one another’._

A deep sigh pushed past Brienne’s lips. She considered how it felt when Jaime was the one at her back atop a horse. _I miss the warmth of his back and his head serving more as a head rest for my own. I even miss his incessant prattling on._

Brienne reflected back on the events of the past few days. After they were attacked on the Gold Road, Trystane’s and Ellaria’s heads were bagged and sent with two soldiers towards Drone.

Baelish was attempting to frame Cersei for the attack as he gave the soldiers a letter that declared “The Lannisters send their regards -Queen Cersei”

The men scoured the area for Myrcella, but under the cover of night neither they nor the hounds could find her. Brienne sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Seven. A suspecting look from Oberyn flitted to her. Brienne offered little more than a nod in acknowledgement.

 _Yes, that’s right. You fools got us into this miss, but at least I could save one innocent. I hope getting revenge against Tywin was worth the fall of your house_.

Straining to hear, Brienne could make out the whispers of Baelish and the midwife.

“And the poison?”

“Yes. After Oberyn gave it to me, I told Tywin of it. As you suspected, he already knew from Qyburn that Cersei came asking after it. He thought she planned to use it on the cow. Tywin decided to use it on Lord Tarth’s men.”

Brienne bit back the sob that threatened to escape. _They killed my father’s men. What fucking purpose does that serve? The Stormlands have nothing to do with this_.

Baelish chuckled. “The Lannisters are so predictable. And Tywin never suspected Oberyn’s true purpose?”

“No. He only thought Cersei’s sought vengeance against the beast.”

“Excellent work. I need you back in the capital. Cersei has been captured by the sparrows and charged with incest, but she only stands accused for the sins with Lancel. As her midwife, you’ll be a strong witness to discredit Tommen’s lineage should that prove necessary. Await word from me in the usual location, but don’t go near the keep. If Cersei is released, we can’t have her find that only you have returned safely from the West. That is… if the sand snakes don’t get to her first.”

Baelish called out to another man who rushed over. “We’ll need some of Lady Lannister’s locks to send with the letter. Take off some of the strands covered in blood. I want her husband to understand what is at stake.”

Brienne sighed and closed her eyes. _Idiots. He married me to save a friend. Not for love. There is no rescue coming nor deal to make. What is the point of taking my damn hair?_

At the command, Brienne stiffened and Oberyn glanced at her; worry lined his eyes as he mumbled another apology. Pulling a dagger from his side, the soldier moved quickly at Brienne and shoved her forward to the ground.

Brienne’s face was pushed forcefully into the ground. The mud made its way up her nose and into her eyes. The soldiers grabbed a chunk of her hair from the area the hounds had bitten her skull and cut off a handful.

Baelish took the tresses from the soldier and folded them into the prewritten missive. He called for the Bolton seal and dripped some wax from a candle he had lit while Brienne’s hair was taken.

Handing the letter back to the soldier, Baelish gave the orders. “Wait two days before making your way to the Rock. The journey will take you a day from here and I want to get a good head start to the Twins. The Kingslayer won’t be ready to move out anyway. His bannermen were not expecting this war.”

The men placed Brienne and Oberyn atop a horse as they finished checking the camp. They stabbed all the fallen for good measure to ensure they were dead enough. As they moved through the darkness, Brienne could hear Oberyn sniffling behind her.

Brienne spoke in hushed tones to the Dornish prince. “Are you alright?”

“They killed my nephew. They killed my love.”

With a sigh, Brienne looked to the night sky before speaking. “Yes, well thanks to you, my father may be dead. My father’s men _are_ dead. They didn’t deserve that either.”

“I didn’t know Tywin would do that. I shouldn’t have given that poison to the wretched woman. I should have destroyed it.”

“Well, you didn’t and now my people have paid the price.”

Neither spoke for some time after that. The gentle sway of the horse nearly rocked Brienne to sleep. Were it not for Oberyn’s body bumping into hers, Brienne might have. When the first rays of morning light stretched its tendrils across the fields before them, Oberyn whispered once more.

“I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. You have my word.”

_Only one person has ever kept me safe before. Only one person cared to try. ‘Sapphires.’ I ruined that too. I pushed him too far. Asked too much of him. I only hope that someday, he can forgive me._

Now days later as she was back atop the horse with Oberyn at her back, Brienne saw the outline of Riverrun in the distance. A wave of memories washed over her. Memories of an enemy turned comrade turned friend.

As they rode along, another mounted presence was soon at their side. The man who had spoken to Baelish in the darkness of night was riding his horse parallel to Brienne and Oberyn. He had dark, curly hair and menacing eyes.

There was something familiar in his facial features that Brienne couldn’t quite place. The look he gave Brienne made her skin crawl. His eyes moved up and down her body as though he meant to carve her up and eat her.

“Well, well. Look at you. Locke didn’t lie. I could have a lot of fun with you.” At the mention of Locke, Brienne felt her heart falter and her breathing quicken.

“Did the Kingslayer keep your maidenhead for himself? Does he pass you around amongst his men like the whore my father’s men claim you to be?” _His father? This is Roose’s son? I did not know he had a son, but now I see the resemblance._

At Brienne’s back, Oberyn lifted his head and turned towards the man. “Lady Brienne is no one’s whore. Keep your hands to yourself or I will show you Dorne’s form of justice.”

The man’s eyes flickered with something dangerous. A challenging smile filled his eyes. “So eager to get in on the action. Yes, I hear you do things quite differently in Dorne. How fortunate we didn’t kill you with your whore along the Gold Road. I think we can have a good time indeed.”

With a final snicker at them, the man spurred his horse along to ride at the front of the lines. Brienne felt herself breathe again.

“You shouldn’t instigate with him. He’s one of Bolton’s men. They’re ruthless and dishonorable. One of them took Jaime’s hand after he stopped them from raping me. They’ll do something similar to you if you try to intercede.”

“In Dorne, we do not rape. I told you that I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I meant it.”

Brienne huffed a bitter laugh and shook her head. “I appreciate the sentiment but save your bravery for a worthy cause. They’ll gain nothing from torturing me outside of their own amusement. I’ll fight to my last breath, but it won’t matter to anyone the outcome. Don’t get yourself tortured on my account. Look how poorly that worked out for Ser Jaime.”

_I should have done what he said. I could have spared him so much trouble. ‘Go away inside’._

Oberyn chuckled at her back. “You are stubborn, you know that? I will not sit by while a woman is tortured or raped; particularly one so undeserving. I hardly think your lion regrets what he did to keep you safe. From what I can see, he would sacrifice the other hand to save you again. He will destroy these men to get back to you. I do not envy their position.”

Brienne was too tired to argue with him. She had barely slept in days and they gave her little more than stale bread and sips of water along the way.

Looking ahead to Riverrun, another memory came back to Brienne. A more recent memory. Two days before they moved south to Stone Mill, they had camped in the shadows of the forest off the River Road.

The clearing they found was eerily similar to the space they camped at the night Jaime lost his hand. Since her journey with Jaime through the Riverlands, Brienne experienced nightmares from the ordeal. In her dreams, all manner of things played out differently.

In her dreams, she would try to scream, but no sound escaped her lips and Jaime didn’t shout out ‘sapphires’. In her dreams, she tried to slice through the bear, but it mauled her and Jaime didn’t jump into the pit. She always wondered if that was how things were meant to play out. It was certainly more in line with what she expected.

That night when she fell asleep, it was the dream of the men in the woods. They tore at her clothing and put their filthy mouths on her. Their fingers grazed across her. She screamed and screamed, but no sound came.

Then Jaime was shaking her awake. His brows were creased in worry and he spoke in hushed tones. “It’s alright, Brienne. You were having a bad dream.”

Looking around, she saw that the others were still asleep. A cold breeze cut through their camp and sent a chill up Brienne’s spine. Since entering this area of the Riverlands, Brienne had taken to sleeping further from the group. She worried that as her subconscious plagued her sleep with an increased frequency of nightmares, her cries may disturb the others.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

Jaime stretched out on the ground facing her. “No. I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t screaming. Just thrashing about and whimpering.” _Great. I must have looked like such a fool_.

“What were you dreaming about?” His eyes were piercing, and Brienne squirmed under his gaze. Moving to lay on her back, she closed her eyes and spoke hesitantly.

“In my dreams I scream, but no sound escapes. They don’t stop. They… it doesn’t matter.” Brienne swallowed down the lump in her throat. She felt horrible telling him of the dream. _I dream of what could have happened, but he was the one hurt._

“I’m sorry, I have no right to it. You were the one tortured. If I had kept my mouth shut as you said, then…”

“Don’t. Don’t every think that or say that.” Jaime’s voice was stern and it caught Brienne off guard. Her eyes flew open and she turned her head to look at him.

When their eyes met, his expression softened and he moved closer until his body was pressed against her. Jaime’s arms encircled her as he dropped his forehead against hers. “If I could go back, I would do it again. Every time.”

Brienne released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. The feel of Jaime against her, his strong arms wrapped around her, made Brienne feel like she was in a cocoon where no one could reach her.

His lips were near her ear as she started to drift back to sleep. “Rest, Brienne. I’ll be here. You don’t need to scream because I’m watching over you.”


	22. Moving Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letter from the Boltons and Baelish arrives.

Jaime sat on one of the cliffs overlooking the Sunset Sea; the letter from the Boltons clutched firmly in hand. The words had looked foreign when he read them earlier. It very well could have been written in Valyrian.

 _Surely, it’s my stupidity. I’m not seeing the words properly._ It had been the only thing Jaime could think at the time to make sense of everything. When eventually Tyrion calmed him down and took the letter from his hand, it was then that Jaime realized that his eyes had not entirely failed him.

_Kingslayer,_

_I believe we have something yours, just as you have something of ours. Lady Sansa’s wedding to your imp brother was never consummated and subsequently is void in the eyes of gods and men. She is betrothed to Ramsay Snow._

_We demand an exchange be made. Your whore for the Stark girl. If you accept this exchange, bring Lady Sansa to the Twins. If you do not accept, we will send your wife home… in pieces._

_I promise you this, whatever you both endured with Locke will appear a kindness compared to what we will do to your whore. Mayhap we will find that lovely pink dress for the new bride. Your protector, was it?_

_Roose Bolton_

_Warden of the North_

Jaime had raged and cursed. They likely heard him all the way across the Narrow Sea, but he cared not. _They have my wife. My love. My wench. My Brienne._ After unleashing his anger on the training dummies in the yards, Jaime found his way to the cliff.

Bannermen from the West began arriving in Lannisport and awaiting their instructions. The last of them would be at the Rock in two days’ time. _It isn’t fast enough!_

Staring out to the sea, Jaime looked down at his bloodied knuckles from where he pounded the practice dummy after tearing it from its post by way of sword. His mind wandered to all the worst case scenarios. _What if she dies without knowing how much I love her? What if they torture her? What if they violate her?_

Jaime felt someone approach from his backside. Looking over his shoulder, Jaime observed Myrcella smile sadly and sit down beside him. “Uncle Jaime. I’m very sorry about your friend.”

 _Friend_. Jaime huffed a bitter laugh. The word ‘friend’ hardly described what Brienne was to him. _Everything with Cersei was a lie. Brienne is my other half, but she doesn’t complete me. Brienne showed me that I am whole on my own. Brienne complements me. Challenges me. Fights for me. Cares for me. Gods willing, she may even love me._

“When we sailed from Dorne, I heard the whispers. I overheard the crew speaking of Oberyn’s revenge to come. They wouldn’t let us off the ship when we docked. I didn’t understand why until the crew brought us Uncle Kevan.”

Jaime turned to look at his niece. His daughter. She had always been so innocent and sweet. Nothing like him nor Cersei.

“She saved me. She was well away, but she came back. She thought they meant to kill us, so she sacrificed herself so that I could flee. She told me to wade through the stream so the hounds couldn’t follow my scent. To ride here to safety. She said she would do everything she could to keep me safe, but when I asked about her, she said she was no one of consequence. That my loved ones couldn’t lose me.”

Jaime felt his heart break at Myrcella’s words. _I’m such a coward. I should have told Brienne long ago how I felt_. The rage Jaime felt earlier was replaced by guilt and sorrow. He closed his eyes to take a steadying breath.

Myrcella’s eyes stayed on him. “She doesn’t know though, does she? That she is more important to you than she thinks.”

Taking a deep breath, Jaime opened his eyes and looked to Myrcella. “Brienne is so much more important to me than she could ever realize.”

A wide smile spread across Myrcella’s face. “I know. I saw the fear on your face when I told you who attacked us. I saw the love in your eyes when you spoke of her last night. I saw the anguish when you received the missive today. I see it now too. You _never_ looked at mother like that.”

At her words, Jaime recoiled as if struck. His eyes widened in shock and he felt his heart stop. “What?”

A knowing smile tugged at Myrcella’s lips. “I know. I’ve known for some time.”

Jaime felt shame flood his body. “I’m sorry. I imagine it brings you great shame to walk around with that knowledge. It was a mistake. Not you of course. I’m glad you and Tommen came of it, but… it was not _healthy_.”

Myrcelle offered a sympathetic smile. “No, it never seemed so. I’m not ashamed though. I’m happy it’s you. Happy that you’re my father. And… it gives me hope. Hope that I can be loving, like you. Not hateful, like her.”

The words were like a punch to the gut. _She thinks me good. I am not a good man_. “Myrcella, you are loving and good _despite_ me and your mother. I am not a good man. I wish I could be.”

“Even thinking that shows the difference between you and mother. I love her, but she is not a good person. She is hateful to others who are good people. Good people like... is it Brienne?” Jaime nodded as Myrcella spoke; a small smile on his lips.

“I don’t want to be like mother.” Jaime shook his head at Myrcella’s words and smiled warmly. “You could never be like her. You’re a wonderful person. I’m very happy you’re home now and safe.”

“Can you tell me about her? About Brienne that is.”

Jaime laughed lightly. “Like you, she is loving, kind, and innocent. She’s better than me with a sword! She is probably the most honorable person I know. Selfless and brave.”

Myrcella beamed and chuckled. “Yes, well I think I experienced that firsthand.”

Taking a breath, Jaime smiled and continued. “She makes me laugh, although I don’t think she intends to. She has been hurt a lot though. The world has not been kind to her.” Jaime’s face dropped and the warmth left his voice. “I was cruel to her at first too. Just like everyone else. She deserves better than me.”

Myrcella looked out at the sea and considered his words. “I think she is lucky to have you, as you are lucky to have her. You’ll rescue her and bring her home so that I can properly meet her. If anyone can save her, you can.”

Jaime felt warmed by Myrcella’s confidence in him. _I hope she has the right of it._

Looking back to the sea, Jaime sighed. “I need to leave. I can’t wait here like this.” Myrcella chuckled and stood up. Looking down at him, she raised a brow. “What are you waiting for? I should like to meet my _aunt_ properly.”

Jaime stood and pulled Myrcella into a tight hug. “Will you stay here with Lady Sansa? Keep her company?”

“Of course. I like Sansa. She was always very sweet to me even though Joff was horrible to her.” Myrcella smiled and dragged Jaime back inside. Moving through the keep, Jaime marched upstairs to Selwyn’s room.

Jaime knocked on the door and heard Selwyn’s feet shuffle forward. When the door pulled back, Jaime noted that the older Lord was in full travel attire with bags packed. With a touch of confusion in his tone, Jaime looked to the older lord and spoke. “I can’t keep waiting. I need to get to her.”

A wide smile tugged at Selwyn’s lips. “It’s about time. I’m coming too! Lets go get her.”

The two men moved down the hall and towards Tyrion’s room. There was a lot of movement inside and Jaime took pause before knocking. _What are they doing?_ Raising his hand to knock, the door flew open. Jaime looked at Tyrion, who like Selwyn, was fully dressed and packed. 

“What uh…. What are you doing?”

Tyrion snorted and pushed past Jaime. Before Jaime could ask again, Sansa moved past as well. She also had a bag packed and moved alongside Tyrion down the stairs.

“Where are you both going? You need to stay here.”

Tyrion looked over his shoulder and smiled. “We’re going with you. We’re the brains of the operation. We knew you’d just rush in impulsively. This is Baelish we’re dealing with.”

Jaime and Selwyn moved quickly behind them. As they reached ground level, Genna moved out from the study. Jaime’s senior commanders, Bronn, and Pod followed her out. “Ah! There he is. Jaime, you keep an eye on Tyrion and Sansa! Follow their advice. You’re a hothead and will likely get yourself killed otherwise.”

“What is going on?”

Genna rolled her eyes and looked at Selwyn. “Does he think us dense? Predictable boy. Take care of him Sel.”

“Of course. I won’t see harm befall my goodson. Are my men at the docks?”

Genna nodded absently. “Yes, yes. Our men will escort you, Jaime, Tyrion, and Sansa down to the docks.”

Jaime shook his head in shock. “Have you all been planning with out me!?”

With desperate glances to everyone surrounding him, Jaime felt his brows furrow as no one moved to speak. Tyrin took a step forward, placing a steadying hand on Jaime’s arm. “Jaime, from the moment Myrcella told us who had her, we knew you would do this. We knew you would rush off impulsively to rescue the maiden fair. It’s what you do for Brienne. We’ll think for you. You just worry about getting to your lady when the times comes.”

Genna cupped Jaime’s cheeks in her hands. “Listen to me boy. You kill every last one of them. A Lannister always pays his debts. Your cousins will stay here with the household guards. They’ll keep watch over Myrcella. I’m going to King’s Landing to help Tommen. I’ve written him that I’m coming and not to engage the High Sparrow until I arrive. Lady Olenna and Cersei, should she be released, will deal with me! I think they’ll find that I’m far less agreeable than Tywin when it comes to my cubs.”

Pulling his head down, Genna placed a hard kiss to Jaime’s forehead. “Go. Bring home my goodniece!” 


	23. Worse than Harrenhal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ramsay visits Oberyn and Brienne in the cells at the Twins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter is dark and there are many mentions of torture. There is threatened rape (it doesn't happen), but at the end, Ramsay does touch Brienne. It doesn't last long, but I want to warn anyone who may be too upset by this. It is a rough chapter. I've updated the tags accordingly.

Brienne and Oberyn were chained to the wall in a large cell in the bowels of the Twins. They had arrived late last night after moving quickly through the Riverlands. The group barely took time to rest or eat. Brienne and Oberyn were afforded little more than water and stale bread once per day.

Sitting in the cell, Brienne struggled to find rest. Her arms were chained above her head and prevented her from laying down. She had to stand up periodically to keep the blood flowing to her fingers and arms. The pain was excruciating and distracted her from the fact that her body was slowly wasting away.

The cells were cold and the moisture unbearable. Water dripped in through the gaps in the stone from the ran heavy soil outside. It dripped down their backs, leaving their clothing damp and chilled.

Brienne felt weak and exhausted. With nominal sleep, Brienne began to see things. The line between reality and imagination blurred. Abruptly, the door to the room flew open. The man with curly brown hair made his way towards their holding cell; a deadly glint in his eyes. 

“Ah there you both are. I do hope you’re finding the accommodations suitable.” The man had a bucket in his hand as the other fumbled for the key to the cell. “The guards tell me you’re dehydrated. Well we can’t have that, now can we?”

Opening the door, Ramsay dumped ice cold water over Brienne’s head. The flesh on her body pimpled on impact as any remnant fatigue was shocked out of her body. A vicious smile tugged at Ramsay’s lips as he pressed close to her.

“There, there. Now you’re hydrated. Do you need _moisture_ in other areas, whore?” Fear gripped Brienne as the man ran his hand over her chest and pinched her nipple which had hardened from the icy water.

“Leave her alone, you coward!” Oberyn’s voice was like a beacon in the darkness. As Ramsay’s attention shifted to Oberyn, Brienne felt a momentary relief until she realized the implications.

“Ah yes, my friend from Dorne. I forgot that you wanted in on the action. Have you had your chance with the whore?”

Oberyn glared at the man but bit his tongue. The door to the room again opened to reveal Littlefinger. He entered the room and moved slowly to the desk at the middle; a stack of scrolls under his arm and some writing instruments in hand.

“Ramsay, we’ve discussed this. I need them alive until the Kingslayer gets here.” Baelish took a seat with a heavy sigh. Looking through the scrolls, he unfurled one and began to read silently.

“Come now Lord Baelish, I only mean to have a little fun with our new friends. That woman you sent to the capital… did she speak true? Is the whore truly a maid?” The man cast a lascivious glance to Brienne; his eyes roamed her body as she stood shivering against the wall.

With an uninterested tone, Baelish took out a blank parchment and began writing a missive. “They call her the Maid of Tarth of a reason. Yes, the midwife checked her. Not that it mattered, she would have lied even if she wasn’t a maid. We needed Tywin to send her off to the bedding.”

Moving back towards Brienne, Ramsay sneered. “I bet the Kingslayer couldn’t even get it up for you. Not close enough in bloodline I imagine, but I can help break you in a little.”

“I said, don’t touch her!” Oberyn’s voice again cut through the small space between Ramsay’s and Brienne’s bodies. With a huff of irritation, Ramsay rounded on Oberyn.

“You continue to ruin the mood. Can’t you see that I’m courting the lady. Clearly no one else has bothered to. Are you that desperate for my attention? Do you need something to occupy you?” Without awaiting a response, Ramsay unsheathed the dagger at his hip and cut off Oberyn’s thumb.

As the Dornish prince cried out in pain, Ramsay shoved the severed digit into Oberyn’s mouth. “That should keep that mouth of yours occupied for a while. If the thumb isn’t big enough to muzzle you, I assure you that I could find a different appendage to fill your mouth with.”

Baelish grimaced at the threat and exhaled audibly. “I told you _not_ to kill them. That includes inflicting injuries that could lead to infection and subsequent death.”

“You wound me, Lord Baelish. That is what we brought the maester for. You would be amazed at the various forms of torture we can inflict while keeping our prisoners alive. Just ask the Kingslayer when he arrives.”

At the mention of Jaime’s torture, bile rose in Brienne’s throat. She looked to Oberyn as silent tears streamed down his face. _Gods, I wish I could help him. He shouldn’t try to save me It isn’t worth his pain_.

The sound of approaching footsteps caught Brienne’s attention. Walking through the door with two guards was Roose Bolton. He glanced at Oberyn and Brienne as though there was nothing out of place before moving towards Baelish.

“Any word from the lookouts?”

“Yes. As expected, the Kingslayer comes for his whore. They approach by boat and should reach Seagard on the morrow. The Freys will give them a warm welcome. That should deplete their forces and give us advantage before they get here.”

Shock rippled through Brienne. _What is Jaime doing? He can’t possibly mean to risk himself and his men for me. Gods, did Myrcella not make it? Does he think they have her too?_

A smile spread across Roose’s face as he walked towards the cell. He entered and stood near Ramsay, narrowing his eyes at Brienne. “Lady Brienne. How wonderful to see you again. I must say, my bannerman Locke was rather disappointed that the Kingslayer took you away after I made it quite clear that you were to remain behind.”

Turning to Ramsay, Roose appraised the young man. “Remember what we discussed. Bring me the Kingslayer’s head and I will have you legitimized. You will wed Lady Sansa and inherit the North.”

Panic gripped Brienne at the thought of Jaime and Sansa in harm’s way. “Why are you doing this!? Ser Jaime has done nothing to…”

Before Brienne could finish speaking, Roose’s fist slammed into her face. “I did not give you permission to speak. As a noblewoman, you should know not to speak out of turn.”

A smile slowly spread across the older lord’s face. “I do however suppose we owe you our thanks. Because of you, the lions are at war with themselves. They’re distracted and disorganized. With the North, Vale, and Riverlands united, we’ll destroy your precious Kingslayer and take the West. Dorne will soon march against the crown… that is if the Reach doesn’t get to them first. Thanks to you, there will be no one left to stop us from claiming the throne.”

Moving closer to Brienne, Ramsay’s face set into a victorious smile. “Father, can’t we just have a little fun with them?”

With a huff, Roose rolled his eyes. “I need her well enough for the exchange. Make a few alterations if you must, but we need her walking. Our Dornish friend is of less value. We only need him as leverage if Dorne refuses to leave the capital after dealing with Cersei and her boy king.”

Roose turned and left the cell, stopping briefly by Baelish’s desk to exchange words that Brienne could not hear. Her attention was brought back to Ramsay as he moved before her. “Well this is wonderful news, my lady. We can have some fun together. I was so worried that this was going to be boring. I do hate to be bored.”

Glancing to Oberyn, Ramsay’s eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Mayhap you would like his cock in you before experiencing something more satisfying.” Raising the bloodied dagger before Brienne’s face, Ramsay smiled before walking back to Oberyn.

“Would you like that? To offer the lady your cock? You seem rather eager to offer her other aid.” Brienne watched in horror as Ramsay grabbed the laces of Oberyn’s breeches and began to cut the strings away.

Roose’s voice halted Ramsay’s progress. “Ramsay. Come along. You can play with our guests later. We have much to discuss with the commanders.”

Oberyn’s eyes flashed with relief as Ramsay hesitantly backed away. “My apologies. What a terrible host I am; having to leave you before the fun begins. I’ll be back later. Don’t worry.”

The Boltons and their guards moved quickly from the room, leaving only Baelish at the desk. His brows were furrowed in concentration as he continued writing on the parchment. Brienne looked to Oberyn sympathetically. He spit the severed thumb from his mouth and gritted his teeth to muffle the scream pushing past his lips.

With a bitter laugh, Oberyn turned his head to Brienne. “See. I told you that your lion would come for you. I hope he is quick about it. As I said before, I will keep you as safe as I can, but I only have so many fingers to distract him with.”

Brienne took a deep breath and closed her eyes. _I can’t let him suffer for me._ “I thank you, but keep yourself safe. They’ll do to me what they will. Ser Jaime already scarified too much to keep me safe. I couldn’t stomach to see someone else tortured for me. It isn’t worth it.”

Oberyn shook his head and held her eyes. “I don’t think he feels the same way. He would not come all this way if he thought you anything but worth it. He does this for love. I do this for atonement. You would not be in this position were it not for my thirst for revenge. I was blinded by it. I’ve lost everything now. As your lion would say, I must pay my debt. I will protect you one body part at a time.”

It was impossible to tell the passage of time in the cells. Baelish had left not long after the Boltons. All Brienne knew was that everything hurt, and she was freezing. Her body shook to the point where she thought she might vomit. Her muscles were beginning to seize up from the lack of food, movement, and constant shivering.

“Breathe, my lady. If you hold your breath like that, it will make the pain worse. Just breathe.” Oberyn’s voice was choked and fatigued. His body a reminder that she was not physically alone in the cell despite feeling abandoned.

The sound of footsteps from the hallway sent Brienne’s heart racing. Her body was awash with the feeling she would have before a fight; fight or flight. She always chose fight and would now, even without the option. Her body stiffened and instinctively tried to curl in on itself. As the door swung open, she saw Ramsay Snow enter the room.

The bastard was carrying a bag in his hand. Whatever was inside clanged around like a warning. Looking to her right, Brienne’s eyes locked with Oberyn’s. He knew what was coming as well.

“Ah, there you both are. Good of you to wait here for me to return. I do apologize for having to leave so abruptly before. Every time I tell myself that I’m going to be a better host, I just go and do something rude like that.” With a faux sigh of disappointment, Ramsay began rummaging about in his bag.

 _Gods, please. Just leave us alone_. “We’re going to play a little game. I’m going to remove pieces of our prince here. When he becomes unwilling to keep up the game, I’m going to show the Kingslayer’s whore just how much she is missing out on. I bet the Kingslayer is lacking quite a lot in his breeches if he wants someone more man than woman.”

From her side, Oberyn muffled a whimper. Swallowing thickly and summoning every ounce of courage she had, Brienne looked to Oberyn. “Don’t. Just… Save yourself.” Breathing heavily in anticipation, Oberyn pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head in refusal.

“Com on then you sick fuck.” Oberyn spat the words at Ramsay and looked straight ahead; refusing to give him the satisfaction of looking into his eyes.

Ramsay moved towards Oberyn and took a small dagger out of the bag. “Just a few alterations. Father’s orders.” Brienne closed her eyes and looked away as Ramsay removed Oberyn’s other thumb. The viper’s screams were horrendous and echoed off the stone walls.

Ramsay stepped back and threw the severed digit over his shoulder. “Another? Or shall I have fun with Lady Brienne now?”

Oberyn looked to Ramsay defiantly; his chin held high. “More.”

Ramsay repeated the process one finger at a time until Oberyn had four fingers remaining; two on each hand. Each time, he asked the same question. Each time, Oberyn said “more.” Brienne felt sick to her stomach. The guilt clawed at her.

“Oberyn. You don’t have to do this. It isn’t worth it.” Again, the prince’s eyes met hers. His face was soaked from tears and his chest heaved with pain. “You’re stubborn, but not as much as me. More!”

Ramsay must have had enough of fingers and moved to Oberyn’s toes instead. Six fingers and four toes are what did Oberyn in. He passed out from the pain and Ramsay was livid at the lack of verbal submission.

In a rage, he moved in front of Brienne and began screaming. His spit flew into her face and his breath assaulted her senses. “He is going to wake up! When he wakes up, he is going to submit! You are going to know that you are not worth it.”

Ramsay began punching Brienne repeatedly in the face, chest, and stomach. With her arms chained above her head, she could do little to block the blows. She refused to give Ramsay the satisfaction of crying out. Biting her tongue as hard as she could, she tried to absorb the blows.

Eventually, the Bolton bastard grew tired of the assault. He stormed out of the cell and retreated to the upper levels of the keep. When she knew Ramsay was far enough away, Brienne let a sob escape her lips as she gasped for breath.

“Oberyn? Oberyn? Can you hear me?” No response came and Brienne only prayed he didn’t lose too much blood. Not long after, a maester came down to tend Oberyn’s wounds. The Viper begged for poppy, but the older man ignored the request. He worked in silence to stop the bleeding and bind the wounds.

More time passed and Brienne heard footsteps returning. _Please, Gods. No_. Ramsay moved back into the cell. He slapped Oberyn across the face and glared at him. Oberyn huffed a bitter laugh and met Ramsay’s eyes.

“Have you had enough? Is it Lady Brienne’s turn?”

With a shuddering breath, Oberyn looked straight ahead again. His voice sounded weak and uncertain, lacking the conviction from earlier. “More.”

Ramsay threw back his head and laughed. “You are so much more entertaining than I thought you would be. I don’t even mind that you’re delaying my enjoyment of the lady.” Turning back to his bag, Ramsay took out a different instrument. It looked like a long, thin nail and was covered in debris.

 _Fucking hells. If the pain doesn’t kill him, an infection certainly will_. Ramsay approached and shoved the nail under one of his four remaining fingernails. Bile rose into Brienne’s throat and she looked away. Oberyn kept screaming and Brienne couldn’t bring herself to look over at him. She didn’t know how many more times Ramsay jabbed at him with the nail, but his sobs tore at her heart.

“Please. Please, stop. No more.” Oberyn’s words caused both relief and panic to spread through Brienne. Relief that his torture would mercifully end. Panic for what was to happen to her.

 _What did Jaime say to do? Go away inside? I can’t. I’ll fight Ramsay. I’ll make him kill me first_. Ramsay stepped back from Oberyn and a wide smile spread across his face. The sound of his slowly approaching footsteps caused Brienne’s heartrate and breathing to accelerate.

“Now, lets see if we can answer Locke’s question. Man or woman?” Ramsay tore at Brienne’s breeches and pressed against her body. Thrashing her hips and legs, Brienne tried to keep him away. Her movements were stilled as Ramsay moved between her legs and used his own pelvis to lean against her; holding her in place.

“You’re a feisty one. I like it!” Brienne slammed her head into Ramsay’s face as hard as she could. He went stumbling backwards in pain, grabbing at his nose. Blood poured down Ramsay’s face and onto his neck and tunic.

“Fucking bitch!” Grabbing Brienne’s head, Ramsay slammed it backwards into the stone wall of the cell. Everything went hazy and Brienne struggled to focus on the bastard’s face. Then she felt Ramsay’s hands at her throat. “You’re lucky that I can’t kill you right now. I would make it slow and painful.”

The next thing Brienne felt was Ramsay’s hand down her pants. _No! Stop!_ Brienne screamed, but no sound came out. It was as though she was living her nightmare. _Jaime, please. I want Jaime. Sapphires_.

“More!” Oberyn’s voice cut through the fog. “I said ‘More’ you piece of shit!” Moving away from Brienne, Ramsay moved towards Oberyn and began pummeling him. “You want more prince!? I’ll give you more!”

Ramsay went into his bag and removed what looked to be a hammer. He raised his arm to swing down, but Roose Bolton came storming into the room. “Ramsay! They’re here! Remember what I told you. I want the Kingslayer’s head!”

 _Jaime_. 


	24. You Want Her? Come Get Her. So He did.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime and the forces arrive to rescue Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Alright this one is gory and Jaime gets his revenge which isn't gentle.

The day prior they arrived at the shores of the Cape of Eagles. They made better time than expected due to favorable winds. Despite not having a port, the location was closer to the Twins and the opposite of what the enemy expected.

Tyrion knew that Bolton and Baelish would likely have a ‘welcome party’ greet them at Seagard. It was the closest major port to the Twins and served as the easiest route to march the men, but there was another reason Tyrion and Jaime didn’t want to dock at Seagard.

It was south of the Twins; not west. Jaime knew the enemy would expect a siege from the south and would place their forces at the southern castle. He wanted to attack from both directions; squeezing the enemy in like a hand around the neck.

Sansa had written ahead to White Harbor. The Manderlys were one of the Starks most loyal vassals and they never cared for the Boltons. She knew they wouldn’t take much convincing once they knew she was alive. She sent them a missive with some information that only those in the North would know. A code system her father had taught her for times such as this.

If all went according to plan, the Manderlys would meet the Stormlands forces at the Northern castle of the Twins. The plan was simple and one that Tyrion and Jaime worked on together. Selwyn would lead the attack from the North. Between the Stormlands, the Manderlys, and any vassals in the areas that the Manderlys could amass on their behalf, they would have roughly 6,000 men. The numbers alone would rival that of the Boltons, Vale, and the Freys.

Jaime’s forces totaled 8,000; 7,500 of which would stand at his back. His men would attack from the south after positioning themselves openly in the field. They would present themselves as though representing the entire host of opposing soldiers.

The remaining 500 men had the most important role to play and would be led by Jaime’s childhood friend, Ser Addam Marbrand. Jaime was glad to have Tyrion with him. Jaime knew war strategy as well as he knew sword fighting, but this enemy was more than a military threat. This enemy had Littlefinger.

Having Tyrion returned the advantage to their side. If Jaime knew what to expect, he could build a military plan. With Littlefinger, Jaime was uncertain what the man would do. Luckily, Tyrion knew.

The Twins were connected by a long bridge roughly two carriages wide. In the middle of the bridge was a massive Water Tower. The Tower served two purposes; additional guest quarters and military defense. Where Jaime struggled with reading comprehension in childhood, Tyrion thrived. He read up on the history of Westeros and the great houses.

House Frey was one of those Tyrion oft read about. During war, the Water Tower would typically house archers; roughly 200-300 men. That would be how they kept Sansa and Brienne safe. Tyrion put himself in Baelish’s position. He considered what Littlefinger wanted and how best to get it.

“What does he want? Sansa. How will he get it? Pretending to exchange for Brienne. They will meet us for the exchange on the bridge. I’m certain of it. It seems neutral enough of a space and they’ll have a place to immediately put Sansa once the fighting breaks out. 

They know that Jaime will be among our party making the exchange for Brienne. It is how they plan to get to him; dangling Brienne before him. I imagine that once the exchange is made, they will give command to their men in the Water Tower to kill Jaime, Brienne, and anyone with Jaime.”

With Tyrion’s ability to read a situation before it took place, Jaime was able to gain the military advantage. He sent out 500 men the before they moved into position south of the Twins. The men were to cut through the fog of the Riverlands and row downstream in the rowboats that brought them ashore from the ships.

At night, the Green Fork of the Trident was pitch black and foggy on account of the heavy rainfall in the area. Between the natural fog cover and darkness, coupled with the sound of the rapids, the men should be able to infiltrate the Water Tower without rousing suspicion nor an alert. 

When Baelish would give the command to ‘their’ men in the tower, Jaime’s men would instead use the tower’s arrow slits to take out anyone with Baelish. Jaime and Tyrion would then secure Sansa and Brienne in the Water Tower with their 500 men to wait out the fighting.

Jaime was eager to see Brienne to safety. His sleep had been fitful since she was taken. In just a fortnight of sharing a bed with her, Jaime had developed a sleep habit that he found impossible to do without.

After the night Jaime kissed Brienne’s scars from the bear and she held his stump as they fell asleep, Jaime found it nearly impossible to sleep without the feeling of Brienne’s hand around his stump.

Every night when he curled up behind her or beside her, Brienne would hold his stump as they fell asleep. When Brienne held his stump, Jaime’s arm felt whole again; as though the hand wasn’t missing. With Brienne missing, his arm felt cold and incomplete.

Standing at the front lines of his men, Jaime took a steadying breath and closed his eyes. Tyrion’s final words of warning from hours earlier played out in his head.

“They will bring Brienne out to where you can see her. They will want you to see her broken. They know you are impulsive; they saw it firsthand at the bear pit. They want you to make a mistake. No matter what, you can’t go to her until it is time. No matter what! Do you understand?”

Jaime knew Tyrion had the right of it, but he couldn’t help but despair. The thought of losing Brienne felt like a hand around his neck, taking him to meet the Stranger. By contrast, the thought of losing Cersei felt like being able to breathe for the first time since the day he came into the world screaming for air.

As Jaime sat atop his horse with his eyes closed, a pair of sapphire pools looked back at him and drove him forward. As expected, Bolton’s men and the knights of the Vale awaited them at the southern castle. Jaime, Tyrion, Sansa, Bronn, and Pod.

One of the generals sent out to greet them sneered at Jaime. “Kingslayer. You’re earlier than expected. Lord Baelish and Lord Bolton are ready to treat with you. We hope you’ll make the correct decision. Give up the girl and be on your way with your whore.”

Jaime tilted up his chin and narrowed his eyes. “Well lead the way. I haven’t seen my old friends in so long. I hope they’re as excited to speak with me as I am them.”

They made their way past the rows of enemy soldiers lined up outside the south facing castle. Jaime chuckled as he took in the looks of disdain being cast his way. As they moved past the first castle and onto the long bridge, Jaime could see the outline of Roose, Littlefinger, and ten guards standing before the Water Tour.

With an amused glance to Tyrion, Jaime huffed a laugh and looked back towards the tower. Lets hope the men accomplished their objective. They rode closer and Jaime felt his heartrate increase. _Where is Brienne?_

“Steady brother.” Tyrion’s calm voice reached his ears; reminding him to remain calm and stick to the plan. They came to a stop roughly fifty feet before Little Finger and Roose. Thinly veiled rage reached Jaime’s face as he locked eyes with Roose. _Fucking piece of shit. You will feel my blade before this day ends_.

Jaime dismounted his horse and helped Sansa down from hers. He gave her hand a light squeeze as she stood pressed against his side. _Please don’t let this fail_. Roose smirked as appraised them from afar. “Ser Jaime. How wonderful to see you again. I do believe you have my future gooddaughter. Just as I have your whore.”

At the words, Roose and Baelish turned their heads back towards their men. The guards parted to reveal a severely beaten Brienne being tugged forward by a young man with dark, curly hair and a dangerous smile.

The man smiled as he came to stand between Roose and Baelish with Brienne at his side. “Ah Kingslayer, thank you for bringing my bride. I think our women were somehow swapped. I hope you don’t mind, but I did sample yours. I hope your imp brother hasn’t touched mine.”

Jaime bit back the scream threatening to push past his lips. His body trembled with rage and his hand moved to the hilt of his sword. Sansa spoke through gritted teeth. “Jaime. Not yet.”

Brienne’s face remained fixed on the ground before her. _Brienne. Look at me. Please_. As if hearing his thoughts, Brienne slowly lifted her head and met Jaime’s eyes. Jaime’s world shattered when he saw the look in her eyes. He had never seen her look so broken. So vulnerable. _I will tear them all apart piece by piece._

Holding Brienne’s eyes, Jaime growled at Bolton and Baelish. “Release my wife, now!”

Roose smiled daringly. “You release my son’s betrothed.” As Bolton spoke, his bastard removed Brienne’s chains. _Come on Brienne. Come towards me_. Sansa looked back at Jaime confidently and nodded.

Taking a step forward, Sansa lifted her chin and glared at the awaiting party. Brienne’s eyes went wide in horror. “No! Sansa, stay with them!”

At Brienne’s outburst, Ramsay struck Brienne hard across the back of the head; sending her to her knees. Jaime took a step forward, but Tyrion stopped him. “Don’t.” Rage coursed through Jaime’s body as he watched Brienne grab the back of her head. Her bloodied head.

 _Gods. What have they done to her_. Brienne stood on her feet and swayed as Ramsay shoved her forward. “Move! Fucking cunt.”

Sansa was halfway to the awaiting group whereas Brienne had barely moved. Her feet slowly stumbled forward as she again pleaded with Sansa to retreat. As Sansa got closer, Baelish smiled widely. Roose rushed forward and grabbed Brienne by the hair. “Kingslayer, you want her!? Come get her!”

So he did.

Jaime couldn’t wait another moment. He took off running towards Brienne; completely ignoring the incoming arrows. Arrows reigning down on Bolton’s men. Ramsay rushed forward to grab Sansa as she neared the group.

Jaime’s eyes remained fixed on Brienne who was struggling in Roose’s grasp. Ramsay dragged Sansa backwards towards the Water Tower. The bastard took an arrow in the shoulder and dropped Sansa as he cried out in pain. “What the fuck! Not us you idiots! Fire at them!”

Seeing what was happening, Littlefinger took off running across the bridge towards the northern castle. Roose took an arrow in the back as Jaime approached and unsheathed his sword. As Brienne fell to the ground, Jaime pushed his sword through Bolton’s neck. The older lord dropped to his knees; blood sputtering out of his mouth and shock in his eyes.

Keeping his eyes locked on Roose, Jaime gritted his teeth and twisted his sword as it remained plunged in the man’s neck. “No one touches my wife!” Removing his hand from Widow’s Wail, Jaime took the dagger from his hip and shoved it into Roose’s eyeball. “The Lannisters send their regards!”

As Roose slumped to the ground, Jaime dropped to his knees and pulled Brienne against him. Looking over her shoulder as he held her close, Jaime saw Ramsay sprinting back towards the northern castle with the only two living guards from his group. Arrows pierced their backs and thighs. The sight of the man who claimed to have violated Brienne caused something to snap inside of Jaime.

An animalistic rage consumed him as he pulled back to look at Brienne. Her face was wet, but not from her own tears. Jaime realized that he was the one crying. Bronn and Pod were quickly at his side. “We need to get ‘em inside the Water Tower now!”

Jaime couldn’t take his eyes off Brienne. Tears kept streaming down his face. “Did he do this to you? Did he… touch you?” Brienne’s face gave Jaime the only answer he needed to hear. _I will destroy that miserable shit_.

Tyrion’s voice was the next thing Jaime heard. “Jaime. I’ll stay with Brienne and Sansa. You need to move.”

Pulling Brienne into a firm kiss, Jaime felt his tears slide between their cheeks and lips. As he broke the kiss, Jaime put his forehead against Brienne’s. “I love you.”

Without awaiting an answer, Jaime stood up, yanked his sword from Roose’s throat. He took off running after Ramsay. Bronn and Pod joined him as some of the men from the Water Tower ran form the structure to provide aid. Addam rushed outside the Water Tower and shouted back to the men still inside to stand guard and prepare to take aim at the retreating men from the south.

In the distance, Jaime could see the forces of the Stormlands and the Northern houses laying siege to the northern castle of the Twins. From the amount of men the Boltons and Baelish had stationed outside the southern castle, Jaime knew there were limited forces in the northern castle, just as Tyrion had expected. Jaime however was looking for one man. _Ramsay_.

A trail of blood led the way. Jaime, Bronn, Pod, and Addam moved quickly and soon caught up to the injured guards as Ramsay ducked inside the castle. Jaime sliced through the injured guards like a madman as he pushed forward in his pursuit of Ramsay. Just ahead, Jaime could see Ramsay darting through a hallway and down a flight of stairs.

Chasing him into the bowels of the keep, Jaime watched as the bastard ran past a door and into a room around the corner. Jaime kept his sword drawn and raised it; prepared to run the man through when he made his way into the room. As he stepped into the room, Jaime heard someone scream. “Look out!”

Jaime pulled up short and barely dodged an ax that darted past his head. Looking left, Jaime saw Oberyn Martell chained to a wall and Ramsay riffling through a bag for another weapon. Before the bastard could produce another weapon, Jaime slammed into him.

He pounded the man with his flesh and gold fists; screaming the entire time. “Fucking cunt! You touched her! You hurt her!” Ramsay cried out with each blow that Jaime landed to his head.

Oberyn screamed from his chained position against the wall. “I told you, you fuck! The lion would come for you!”

Rage consumed Jaime. Looking up at the wall, he saw the shackles dangling down. Standing from Ramsay’s crumpled form, he dragged the man to the wall. Jaime propped him up and chained his wrists. For the first time since he entered the room, he truly looked at Oberyn

Through tear-filled eyes, Jaime could see how tortured Oberyn was. His hands were heavily bound and only four fingers were visible. Toes and fingers littered the floor before the man. Jaime felt bile in the back of his throat. As he met Oberyn’s eyes, he could see the pain and sorrow there.

“I tried to protect her. I’m sorry. He beat her. He touched her. He threatened to rape her.”

Looking back at the floor, Jaime saw the discarded dagger and nail like weapon. Both were rusty and covered in blood. An image of Brienne hurt and violated flashed through his mind. Fresh tears spilled from Jaime’s eyes and landed on the dirty floor of the cell.

Standing up with the dagger in hand, Jaime growled at Ramsay. “You touched _my wife_!” With a vicious sawing motion Jaime cut off Ramsay’s hand. The bastards let out a shrill cry as his arm slipped from the chain and his hand fell to the ground.

Jaime began beating Ramsay mercilessly with his gold hand. The sound of Ramsay’s ribs cracking under his fist only sought to encourage Jaime’s assault. Ramsay began to struggle for air as the flurry of punches connected with his body.

Jaime took pause to pick up the nail looking object. Looking Ramsay in the eyes, he pinned the man’s head flat against the wall with his gold fist. He took the nail like weapon and thrust it up into the bottom side of Ramsay’s chin.

Shock and pain flashed through the bastard’s eyes. Jaime heard more people enter the room. “Jaime?” Addam’s voice sounded hesitant. Jaime turned to see Bronn, Pod, and Addam standing just inside the room. Their eyes were wide in shock as they took in the scene before them.

Pod took a step forward, his eyes fixed on Ramsay. “Is it true. He hurt her?” Jaime’s chest was heaving in a mix of rage and grief. With the nod of his head, Jaime watched as Pod entered the cell beside him. Looking to Ramsay, Pod’s eyes darkened. Jaime had never seen the look on Pod’s face before. He was always such a sweet, innocent lad.

“We should keep him alive for Lady Brienne to end him. Lets just make sure that loose arm doesn’t try to undo the other chains.” Pod took the dagger from Jaime and pushed it through Ramsay’s arm and into a crack between stones in the wall; effectively pinning him in place.

Bronn stepped forward and glared at Ramsay. “We’ve got Littlefinger upstairs. They barely had 500 men here. Ya Goodfather and the forces are already down the bridge and squeezing the fuckers in from both sides.”

Taking in the words, Jaime slowly steadied his breathing and wiped the tears from his face. _Brienne. I need to get back to Brienne._


	25. Idiots In Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne's POV from the battle at the Twins.

Jaime’s words echoed in Brienne’s head as the feeling of his lips on hers lingered long after he ran to find Ramsay. _What? He loves me?_ Everything was happening so fast and Brienne was certain this was all another hallucination. A figment of her imagination.

_Surely, I’m still in the cells being tortured. Have I gone away inside as Jaime told me once? Mayhap I’m not in the cells and I’m simply dead. This can’t be real._

Brienne was being urged forward and into the tower by Sansa and Tyrion. In the distance, Brienne could see men from the Stormlands charging down the bridge towards them. The sound of fighting to the south caught Brienne’s attention and she craned her neck to see what was happening. Before she could appraise the situation, the sensation of Sansa’s dainty hands tugged her along.

“Brienne! Brienne, are you alright?” Sansa stared into Brienne’s eyes as she pulled her forward. _No. What is happening? Is this real? Am I alive?_

They were inside the tower and somehow, Brienne’s legs propelled her up the narrow, winding stairwell at Tyrion’s instruction. Soldiers inside the Water Tower ran to the south facing walls. Taking aim, they released their arrows at an unseen target. Tyrion and Sansa moved Brienne higher and higher into the tower.

Brienne felt weak from lack of food and water over the past fortnight. The seemingly never-ending steps leading to an unknown destination became disorienting. _This isn’t real. Wake up. Wake up!_

Grabbing the wall for purchase, Brienne’s knees began to buckle and her face paled. Tyrion and Sansa began yelling at her, but she couldn’t make out the words. A pair of hands came to each of her arms and began moving her forward again.

 _Soldiers. Lannister soldiers_. Brienne didn’t remember much after that other than fleeting images. An army being squeezed in on the bridge. Desperate, dying men jumping into the rapids to escape death. Screaming.

When next Brienne’s eyes opened, she found herself in a bed and staring at a ceiling. The setting sun shone through the windows in the room and a gentle breeze pushed her hair back from her forehead. The outline of her father was the first thing that came into view.

He stood with his left arm above his head and leaning against the window frame, peering out at something below. The setting sun reflected off his blonde trusses and tan skin. He looked ethereal and panic gripped Brienne. _Is this death? Is he dead too? Did he die trying to get to me?_

Brienne tried to call out to him but couldn’t find her voice. Her tongue felt heavy and dry in her mouth. Turning her head side to side, another figure caught her attention. At her bedside was Jaime. His head was cradled in his hands. His golden hair shining brightly.

 _Jaime_. Moving her hand, she tried to get his attention. “Jaime.” His name came out gravelly on Brienne’s tongue. Immediately, Jaime’s head snapped up to look at her. The sight of his tear-swollen eyes took her breath away. _What’s happened? What is wrong? Did someone die?_

Footsteps approached the foot of the bed and a long shadow moved over Brienne. Glancing towards her feet, Brienne saw her father’s worried face staring down at her. “Thank the Gods! You’re awake.”

Jaime’s warm flesh hand cupped her check as he moved to sit on the bed. “Brienne. Do you need water? Does anything hurt?”

_Gods. I’m alive? This is real?_

Brienne needed to understand what was going on. She needed confirmation that this was not death nor a hallucination. It seemed too good to be true that the torture was over. “Am I dead? Is he gone?”

Brienne’s eyes frantically searched the room for any sign of retreat to the pleasant image before her. Any sign that she was still in the cells. She wondered what would pull her back to reality first. _Fingers and toes on the floor? Blood on the walls? Ramsay’s eyes in the corner?_

A visible relief washed over Jaime. “You’re alright. You’re safe now. They’ll never hurt you again. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again, Brienne.”

As Jaime cupped Brienne’s face in his hand, his thumb gently caressed her cheek. _It’s over. I’m not yet dead._ Brienne closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation of Jaime’s hand; warm and soothing against her skin.

Approaching footsteps broke the trance that Brienne was under. Moving her head to the left, she saw Sansa and Tyrion enter the small chambers. They carried something in their hands and placed it on a side table. Wide smiles stretched across their faces at the sight of her. “You’re awake! We brought some broth and water.”

“Ah, good. Thank you. She needs her strength.” Selwyn moved around the bed as he spoke. Her father’s strong arms propped her up on the bed as Jaime stacked pillows behind her. “You need to eat.”

Brienne’s body hurt as she was maneuvered into a seated position. There was a mirror in the corner of the room and Brienne caught sight of herself. _I’m even uglier than usual_. Her face was bruised and her right eye swollen. It appeared her hair had been washed and she was in a clean tunic. The bruises moved down her neck and Brienne knew they went lower towards her ribs as well.

After ensuring she ate a sufficient amount, the group updated her as to what happened. Immediately, Brienne’s mind went to Oberyn. _On Gods!_

“Oberyn! He’s in the cells. He needs help.” With a reassuring hand, Sansa grabbed Brienne’s arm and smiled sadly. “The maester is tending to him. He is in the main keep in the northern castle.” With an appeased nod, Brienne leaned back against the pillows.

She explained what had happened on the way to King’s Landing. She shared Oberyn’s intentions and his attempts to keep her safe from Ramsay. She struggled to mention certain things in front of her father; things she did want to admit even to herself. _The only time I’ve been touched in my life and it was in a moment of torture. Of violence_. _I’ll die a maid with that as my only experience._

Sansa and Tyrion soon left for supper in the main keep. They agreed to regroup on the morrow and determine the best course of action. Everyone felt it best to deal with Littlefinger and Ramsay themselves. They didn’t want the two men be afforded a trial by the crown. The crown would be too merciful in its punishment.

Sansa expressed interest in returning to Winterfell as her ancestral home now sat abandoned. Tyrion seemed conflicted over the matter and looked uneasily at Jaime. For his part, Jaime seemed eager to return to the Rock.

With a smirk towards Jaime, Selwyn bid Brienne goodnight and clapped Jaime on the shoulder on the way out. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed as her father retreated. The words from Jaime’s lips that Brienne believed a hallucination came back to her. _Did he truly say that or is my mind playing tricks on me? I’m certain it was wishful thinking. I should just be grateful he saved me yet again_.

Jaime smiled warmly at Brienne and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so frightened in my life as when I received the missive from Bolton that they had you. Did Ramsay… did he force himself on you…”

Brienne shook her head and swallowed the lump in her throat. “I think he would have, but Oberyn stopped him. He only… touched me.”

Something akin to rage flashed in Jaime’s eyes as he looked out the window. Biting his lip, Jaime looked back to Brienne. She saw a deep pain there and wondered at what he was thinking.

Jaime took a deep breath and nodded before speaking. “Well I’m glad I didn’t kill him. You should have that honor. I merely ensured that his night would be spent suffering enough to know that he put his hands on the wrong woman.”

Turning to look at her, Brienne was taken aback by the soft look in Jaime’s eyes. “I meant what I said earlier on the bridge. I was a coward and should have told you long ago. I planned to tell you _that_ night… the night Tywin forced you to marry me. You deserve to know, even if you don’t feel the same way. My desire to marry you was far more selfish than merely trying to protect you from trial. I have loved you for some time. I would do anything for you.”

The shock of Jaime’s words rendered Brienne speechless. She blinked several times and furrowed her brows. “But I’m… I’m not… I’m just…” Brienne struggled to say the words. _I’m ugly. I’m not lovable. I’m just a sword._

“You’re everything. Anyone who ever made you feel otherwise is a dolt; myself included. I’m sorry that my father forced you to marry me. We can claim the wedding untrue if you would rather not be tied to me. I just…” Jaime paused and looked away. His words seemed to fail him in the moment, but Brienne didn’t need to hear anymore.

It was as though everyone’s words suddenly hit her at once; the sensation similar to Ramsay dumping the bucket of ice water on her in the cells. Sansa’s voice echoed in her mind first. “He looks at you as I hope to be looked at someday. Just look a little closer. Listen more intently. It’s there.”

Then it was Genna’s voice. “Do you two dolts actually talk, or do you just stare at each other longingly?”

Then it was Oberyn’s voice. “Anyone can see the way he longs for you.”

As realization began to dawn on her, Brienne thought on her interactions with Jaime. All the soft looks that she couldn’t understand. The gentle touches. The kiss to her scars. The need for physical proximity. The words he spoke...

The words outside Stone Mill when Jaime pushed the subject of leaving the Kingsguard. “I was given the chance to leave after Aerys, but I stayed for Cersei. I was given the chance when I returned to King’s Landing with one hand, but I stayed for Cersei. I was given the chance after Tyrion was freed, and I left for you.”

The words when he defended her to the Sarsfields. “She has far more to offer than her looks, which by the way I find _more_ than pleasing.”

The words at the Rock when she tried on the dress Genna forced her into. “You look beautiful…. You look beautiful to me.” and “Blue is a good color on you. It brings out your eyes and they’re the most beautiful that I’ve ever seen.”

The words when Tywin threatened her. “If you threaten her again, I will kill you myself.” The words when Jaime worried over her safety. “I can’t lose you.” The words when Jaime rescued her. “I love you.”

_Gods. Am I an idiot? I’m fairly confident that I’m an idiot._

Fear took hold of Brienne. Fear that if she didn’t speak, he might change his mind. Fear that without return, his love could be snuffed out like a fire.

“I love you too. I thought you were forced, and I felt terrible for it. I felt terrible that you were stuck with me if only to save me. I know what it would look like for people to see you with someone such as me and I…”

Before she could continue, Jaime’s lips were on hers. Brienne felt her stomach drop like jumping off a cliff. The sensation of his lips on hers ignited something buried deep inside that she thought she could never have. Requited love.

Jaime deepened the kiss as he pressed his weight further onto her. The kiss conveyed a year of longing on both of their parts. Brienne’s head pressed back against the pillows as her hands cupped his face. A slight whimper left Jaime’s mouth at the contact. 

When their lips finally parted and left them panting into each other’s mouths, Jaime pressed his forehead to Brienne’s just as he had earlier on the bridge.

“So, you’ll have me then?”

Brienne huffed a laugh at his words. “I wouldn’t have anyone else.”

A wide smiled stretched across Jaime’s face as he pulled back his head slightly. “Can I stay in this room tonight? The others don’t have my wife in them.”

With a slight eye roll, Brienne moved to her right so that Jaime could slide under the furs with her. Jaime took off his false hand and dropped it to the floor. Kicking off his boots, he settled into the bed beside Brienne. They faced each other and stared for a moment; both lost in the other’s eyes.

Brienne reached for Jaime’s stump and pulled it against her heart where it belonged. Her eyes closed as she settled against the pillows, but she soon felt Jaime’s lips on hers. This time, his kiss was more desperate. Needy almost.

As Jaime pulled Brienne close with his arms, she felt the entire length of their bodies press together. She startled at the feel of his desire. His cock was hard and straining against her. 

Jaime moved back quickly; his face flushed slightly. “I’m sorry.” The implications of his physical state were not lost on Brienne. _He finds me desirable_.

“It’s fine, I just didn’t think you could… desire me. I believe that you love me, but I know that you couldn’t… before… at the Rock and I understood. I still do.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide at her words. “I very much wanted to. I though my arms might give out from having to hold myself over you like that so you wouldn’t be disgusted by my desire for you. I could never _force_ you or make you feel forced. I felt guilty for wanting you as I did.”

“You _wanted_ to? I thought I repulsed you.” Jaime’s brows furrowed and he shook his head. Taking her hand and kissing her softly, Jaime pressed himself against her again. Let her feel his desire for her. “I wanted you then as I do now. I can hardly claim those were the only times. There may have been some awkward moments in the mornings.”

Jaime huffed a laugh as Brienne’s face betrayed her surprise. Dropping any mirth from his tone, Jaime looked in her eyes. “When you’re ready though. You should rest now. I’ll watch over you. Always.”


	26. Paying Their Debts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after the battle. The three prisoners are punished.

There had been a surprise in the cells of the southern castle. Sansa’s uncle, Edmure. At first, Jaime’s men thought him little more than a commoner given how filthy he was. It wasn’t until one of Jaime’s senior commanders truly saw him that realization struck.

Sansa visited her uncle that morning. She was surprised to see that he loved his bride, Roslin, who had a babe at her hip. _Gods. I can’t believe he is alive. I can’t believe I have a cousin!_ They spoke of a lot in a short span of time.

Initially, Edmure had been incensed that Sansa was vouching for the Lannister brothers. As Sansa explained and told of their journey, Edmure softened some. He was still leery, but he seemed to weak in spirit to fight her.

Having left her uncle’s assigned chambers, Sansa moved through the keep of the northern castle. She watched curiously as Jaime’s commanders filed in from the courtyard. The day the Twins had fallen, Jaime sent out a contingent of men to take out the Freys stationed at Seagard.

According to Jaime, the Freys were as impressive a military force as the Boltons were kind to their captives. He believed it wouldn’t take much to remove the last of the enemy from the Riverlands.

It was only the day after the battle and Sansa knew that the forces were not likely to have reached Seagard nor encountered the remaining Freys. _I wonder what they’re gathering for._

Moving into the hall, Sansa saw Jaime in military commander mode, pacing back and forth while looking down at a map of the kingdoms. He peppered his men with questions as Brienne sat stiffy in a chair off to the side.

“And how many from our latest report?”

An older looking commander in full Lannister armor spoke confidently to Jaime. “Roughly four thousand, Ser Jaime.”

With a sigh, Jaime turned back to Brienne. “You say they sent the note immediately?” Brienne nodded in response which provoked a huff of frustration from Jaime.

Looking to the maester, Jaime rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Is Oberyn conscious yet?”

The maester shook his head in denial. “No, my lord. I’ve been keeping him on a steady dose of poppy. If I discontinue to medicine, he may wake within half a day’s time, but I don’t know what state he’ll be in.”

Sansa moved across the room and sat beside Brienne. So as not to interrupt the meeting, Sansa leaned in and whispered. “What’s going on?”

Sansa then took the opportunity to appraise her friend. The bruising on her face was horrific and Brienne looked surprisingly small; a stark contrast to how she ordinarily presented.

“When we were attacked on the Gold Road, Littlefinger sent Ellaria’s and Tyrstane’s heads to Dorne with a false note from Cersei. It said ‘The Lannisters send their regards’. They were trying to frame the crown and incite a war.”

A familiar ploy by Baelish is seemed. Just days earlier on the journey to the Twins, Tyrion had raised how Baelish tried to implicate him in the assault on a recovering Bran by giving his hired assailant Tyrion’s dagger.

Sansa sighed in exhaustion. The implication was obvious. Dorne would move against Cersei and in turn anyone associated with her. Genna was likely in King’s Landing by now and directly in harm’s way. Tommen would also be guilty by association in the eyes of Drone, a kingdom renowned for its penchant for revenge. It was evident to Sansa why Jaime was so concerned.

Breinne stood from her seat and went to stand by Jaime’s side. She spoke quietly for his ears only before stepping back to sit beside Sansa again. Whatever she said elicited a huff of laughter from Jaime and his reply was audible. “Point well made.”

Jaime looked to Addam and spoke commandingly. “We need to move all but one hundred of our men to the capital at once to protect King Tommen. I’ll have a raven sent ahead alerting the crown of Baelish’s plan and likely attack by Dorne.”

Jaime glanced back at Brienne, a slight smirk on his face. “I was going to have Oberyn write to Dorne and bid them stand down, but as my wife here points out, he couldn’t write even if he was awake and wishing to. She would however recommend we retrieve his house ring for the seal. We’ll need write on his behalf.”

Addam nodded in understanding and bowed with a smirk on his face. “As _my lord_ commands.” Jaime’s grimace at his formal title did not go unnoticed to Sansa. She knew that Jaime wanted to be Lord of the Rock as much as Brienne wanted to wear a dress.

Jaime turned to Tyrion. “We should let the Reach know as well. They have a vested interest in the safety of Tommen. Between that and their distaste for Dorne, we should easily outnumber any army they send.”

Tyrion nodded in agreement. “And the remaining 100… will you be among them or with Addam marching south?” Casting a glance back at Brienne and Sansa, Jaime smiled and looked to Tyrion. “North. We’ll help you.”

A wide smile spread across Tyrion’s face before he glanced to Sansa. “Excellent. So kind of you to aid your brother and goodsister.” _Oh Gods. What has he done?_

As the meeting concluded and the room cleared out, Sansa watched as the Lannister brothers spoke in hushed tones. They walked slowly towards Sansa and Brienne; an amused smile on Tyrion’s face. The brothers sat down beside them with Jaime at Brienne’s right and Tyrion at Sansa’s left.

Sansa watched with delight as Jaime immediately reached for Brienne’s hand; lacing his fingers tightly between hers. _Gods, finally_.

Looking between the brothers, Sansa’s brows furrowed in confusion. “North?”

Jaime sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Well my brother believes it appropriate to take his lady wife home to claim her ancestral seat. He believes that will make her happy. Unfortunately, my aunt told me that I was to listen to him on this little trip and _my_ lady wife has also reminded me that we swore an oath to your mother who bid us return her daughters _home_. I suppose I have little reason not to take you north.”

A wide smile spread across Sansa’s face. The words rolled off her tongue in a whisper. “Home.” As tears pooled in her eyes, she lunged at Tyrion and kissed his cheek forcefully. “Thank you!” Pulling back and wiping at her eyes, Sansa looked to Jaime and Brienne.

“And thank you both. My mother would be grateful.”

Jaime chuckled. “Yes, so _grateful_. I’m certain this is exactly what she hoped for when she sent me and Brienne off.” Looking to Brienne, Jaime smiled as she rolled her eyes. “I’ll send word to Tommen. He’ll name your Warden of course.”

 _Warden. A position I never thought to hold growing up with three legitimate brothers._ A slight sadness tugged at Sansa’s heart. _No word of Arya since she fled from Brienne. I may be the only Stark left._

As if sensing her mood change, Tyrion reached for her hand and squeeze lightly. “Once we have you safely home, we’ll send word to the Wall for Jon. We can ask around if there has been any word of your younger brothers. Mayhap Arya will surface too.”

Sansa smiled warmly at Tyrion. It still baffled her how she had grown to depend on and care for Tyrion. She thought her life over when Tywin forced Tyrion on her. Little did she know how perfect a match it was.

“When do we leave?”

A vicious smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “We’ll leave as soon as we deal with some friends in the cells. Ramsay’s fate I leave to Brienne, but I do believe Walder and Littlefinger owe you the debt, goodsister.”

 _Walder Frey. The man who killed my mother, brother, goodsister, kin, and bannermen. The man who stuffed my uncle in a dingy cell for moons on end_.

 _Littlefinger. The man who lied to me. Killed my aunt. Wished to broker me into a marriage to Ramsay_.

Sansa’s voice was cold and clipped. “Littlefinger is mine, but I think it only fair to leave Walder’s fate to my uncle.” Tyrion and Jaime offered little more than a nod of the head in understanding.

Not long after, Sansa stood outside the door to the room containing Ramsay, Walder, and Littlefinger. At her side was Brienne and Edmure. Behind them, a small group of those with vested interest; Jaime, Selwyn, Pod, and Tyrion. Sansa had also asked two norther soldiers to join them for what she had planned.

As they entered the room containing the cell that Brienne and Oberyn had been in, Sansa gasped at the sight of Ramsay. Unlike Littlefinger and Walder who had barely a scratch on them, Ramsay was barely clinging to life. She looked back at Jaime whose eyes were dark with hate as he glared at the man.

A small gasp pushed past Brienne’s lips as she appraised Ramsay. Brienne stopped walking as a wave of emotions hit her. Pulling her close, Jaime whispered into Brienne’s ear. “Are you alright to do this?”

Brienne’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment before opening and looking ahead determinedly. “I am. Just… don’t leave me.”

“Never.” At the word, Jaime’s flesh hand was at Brienne’s hip. A united front as they moved forward towards the cell.

Edmure was the first to step forward. He produced a dagger from his hip as hate filled his eyes. “Hello, goodfather. Do you remember me? It is quite a long walk across that bridge. Your guards didn’t forget me though. They came by to taunt me daily. To tell me of how my kin was murdered after I was pulled from the hall. They say your men first stabbed my goodniece repeatedly in her pregnant belly.”

Edmure began to poke holes in Walder’s stomach. The older lord gasped and squirmed in a pathetic effort to dodge the blows. After several stabs, Edmure stopped and watched as Walder looked down at his gouged stomach in shock.

“They told me that you then had my sister’s throat cut open. End to End. She begged for her son’s life. Who will you beg for?”

Walder’s eyes flew open wide as Edmure stepped forward and dragged the dagger across his throat. As blood pooled in the old man’s mouth and spluttered out, a deep choking sound filled the small room. Littlefinger grimaced and shrunk away from his chained space beside old Walder.

Edmure wiped the bloodied blade on Walder’s writhing body before sheathing it. Turning to Sansa, he hugged her close before moving past her to leave. He paused to nod in wordless thanks at the Lannister brothers.

Sansa stepped forward and looked to Littlefinger. The man cowered under her gaze before beginning to plead. “Lady Sansa, this is all a misunderstanding. I was only trying to keep you safe. The Lannisters…”

“Saved me. Ser Jaime and Tyrion that is. You do recall Tyrion, my husband? Yet somehow, you planned to sell me off to _this_.” Sansa pointed to Ramsay but did not remove her gaze from Littlefinger.

“Did you know what he was? Brienne tells me that you sat in this very room and watched as Ramsay tortured her and Oberyn.”

Again, Baelish tried to reason with her. “They were our enemies. I would not have tried to arrange a betrothal if I thought he would harm you as such. I always loved your mother. I love her…”

“Enough. I watched you claim to love my aunt. Then you pushed her to her death. You tried to have my brother killed on his recovery bed and you tried to blame Tyrion. You gave the assassin Tyrion’s blade. You expect me to trust you? Why should I?” Sansa stared at the man but held her tongue from speaking further. They needed more information.

A flicker of hope danced in Baelish’s eyes. “Everything I did, I did with your best interest at heart. I swear it. I can help you. My network of spies runs deep throughout Westeros and I know of the dangers out there. The threats lurking.”

“Such as?”

“The Tyrells. I had to get you out of King’s Landing. They want the crown and will stop at nothing to take it. Lady Olenna killed Joffrey. She will kill Tommen. They will do anything to ensure they gain control in Westeros.”

Sansa turned and flashed a smile at Tyrion. They had suspected Littlefinger’s role in the death of Joffrey. He was meant to be well away at the Vale, and yet his ship docked in the night to see her removed from the city in secret.

Jaime took in a sharp intake of breath beside Tyrion. Sansa knew that he worried for Tommen and Genna. No matter what he did, the people he cared for always seemed to be in harms way. Turning back to Baelish, a sly smile spread across her face. “Thank you, Lord Baelish, for your many lessons and insights. I’ve always been told that I’m a slow learner, but I do learn.”

With the nod of her head, the two northern guards stepped forward. They unchained Baelish from the wall and kept his hands bound. Sansa followed the men as they took him to the table and shoved him over it; bent at the waist.

Sansa moved around the table to look Littlefinger in the eyes. “Your venomous tongue has finally done you in Lord Baelish. Best we remove it.” As one Northmen held back Littlefinger’s head, the other took the pincers found in Ramsay’s bag. Sansa was too squeamish to perform the task, so she had asked Tyrion. Stepping forward with a dagger in hand, Tyrion made quick work of the procedure.

Baelish writhed in pain, but he gagged with each attempted cry. Pain flooded his eyes as he fell to the floor. Again, Sansa nodded to the guards. They had earlier been instructed to take Baelish to the kennels. Ramsay’s dogs had not been fed in days. If the marks on Brienne’s arms, legs, and head were any indication, they were more than capable of finishing Baelish off.

Tyrion followed the guards out of the room to see it done. Sansa turned back to Brienne. She stood frozen in place staring at Ramsay whose head hung towards the floor. Jaime was before her; concern in his eyes.

Selwyn and Pod had requested a _moment_ with Ramsay before Brienne finished him off. Entering the cell, Selwyn took appraisal of the man. A vicious scowl was on his face. “You hurt my daughter. You violated her. That was not wise.”

Grabbing Ramsay’s remaining hand, Selwyn removed each finger one at a time. “Now we don’t need to worry about you touching anyone else.” With a swift knee to Ramsay’s groin for good measure, Selwyn turned and left the cell. He paused to place a kiss to Brienne’s head before leaving. Try as Selwyn might to hide his eyes, Sansa saw the tears there.

Pod was next into the cell. There was already little remaining of Ramsay, but Pod seemed happy just to face the man once more. “I forgot my dagger.” Pod yanked the dagger from Ramsay’s arm which had remained wedged in the wall overnight. As Ramsay’s arm and side swung down, Pod landed a well-placed punch to the bastard’s face. “This is for Lady Brienne.” Similar to Selwyn, Pod kneed Ramsay in groin and walked out.

Sansa, Brienne, and Jaime were all who remained in the small room. Ramsay had no fight left in him. He lacked the energy to cry out in pain from the abuse. Jaime had continued standing with his back to Ramsay, facing Brienne. He leaned in and whispered something to Brienne; his eyes closing slightly as he spoke.

Moving into the cell, Jaime glared down at Ramsay who was bent at the waist and attached to the wall only by his remaining arm. Jaime’s golden hand pushed against the spike that jutted out from the bottom of the bastard’s jaw. Using it to push Ramsay’s head back to meet his eyes, Jaime tilted his own head and sneered at the bastard. “Just to be clear, I do take issue with you ‘sampling’ my wife as you put it.”

With his left hand, Jaime produced his dagger and jammed it into Ramsay’s groin. The bastard gasped and tried to scream, but the nail through his jaw went straight through to the top of his mouth. Tears streamed down Ramsay’s face as Jaime removed the dagger and stepped out of the way for Brienne.

Without a word, Brienne unsheathed Oathkeeper which Jaime had worn at his hop during battle. Ramsay’s again hung forward in pain; bent at the waist with only his chained arm holding him upright.

Brienne sliced down violently and severed Ramsay’s head in one fluid motion. Her speed and strength with the sword reminded Sansa of her father. Brienne stood still for a moment, staring down at the bastard’s lifeless body.

All the strength Brienne had summoned to keep herself together seemed to fade at that moment. She began to shake and clutched at Jaime’s arm as he moved to her. Thinking it best to give them a moment, Sansa stepped out from the room to find Tyrion.

With a final look back at the pair, a sad smile tugged at Sansa’s lips. _If only they could have finally come together under better circumstances._ Jaime held Brienne in a tight embrace; his flesh hand holding her head firm to him while he spoke in comforting tones. “It’s over now, Brienne.”


	27. North for an Oath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group leaves the twins to head North.

The morning after banishing Baelish, Walder, and Ramsay to the Seven Hells to join Roose, Jaime’s small group escorted by 100 Lannister soldiers readied to leave the Twins.

Jaime and Brienne had spent the morning breaking their fast with Selwyn. The older lord was sad to see Brienne go off on yet another adventure, but Jaime and Brienne promised to visit to Tarth when things were settled in both the North and King’s Landing.

Jaime pulled Selwyn aside after eating to speak with him privately. “I don’t want what happened at the Rock to be what Brienne thinks about when she looks back on our wedding. Mayhap when this is all over, we could just do something small on Tarth. Just the handful of people important to her so that she can have a better memory of our vows. Not _that_ night and everything that followed after.”

Selwyn beamed and clapped Jaime on the shoulder. “Yes, yes. I like you’re thinking. I think she would like that and selfishly, I would have liked to be there for it.” With a nod of his head, Jaime turned to leave, but Selwyn stopped him.

“I just want to thank you for saving her. I don’t just mean this.” The older lord extended his arms to indicate the battle at the Twins. “I mean for saving her from a life of loneliness. You took the time to truly _see_ her. No one else was willing to give her a chance. They just saw a tall girl who didn’t fit Westeros’ standards of beauty and grace. A girl better with a sword than pretty words and dainty activities.”

A pang of guilt hit Jaime. He had been one of those people who judged her immediately. He was harsh and cruel. _Would I have taken the time if she wasn’t forced on me as my captor? No. I wouldn’t have because I was the Kingslayer then. I wasn’t the Kingslayer in the way Westeros thought me, but in attitude and arrogance._

“She is the best thing that ever happened to me. I am afraid to think where I would be and what kind of person I would be if had I not met her.” At Jaime’s words, Selwyn beamed and pulled him into a monstrous hug. _Gods. That organ doesn’t belong there. I can’t breathe_.

Releasing Jaime, Selwyn took appraisal of him. “You’ll do just fine, Jaime Lannister. Please, keep an eye on her. She is much more sensitive and fragile than she lets on. A maiden’s heart in the warrior’s body.”

Jaime watched as Selwyn walked off to meet with his men. The older lord had a commanding presence, but unlike Tywin who had ruled by intimidation, Selwyn ruled by righteousness. 

Making his way back inside the keep, Jaime sought out his group. Sansa was eager to depart and return home while Tyrion had an odd energy about him. He seemed excited to be moving out if not slightly apprehensive. Jaime resolved that he would pull his brother aside at some point and speak on the matter.

Bronn and Pod were eager to head north rather than south. Both seemed relieved to be relegated to a more relaxed journey instead of potential war in King’s Landing. Jaime bit back a laugh at the sight of Pod desperately trying to get away from Bronn who was giving a dissertation on the merits of northern brothels compared to southern brothels.

From the corner of his eyes, Jaime saw Brienne enter the room. His wife. It felt good to know that she was both safe and his. Hearing Sansa and Genna tell him that his love was requited was one thing, but to hear it from Brienne’s mouth was another. He had never felt more complete in all his life.

Approaching Brienne, Jaime smiled and placed his hand on the small of her back, leaning in for only her ears. “Are you sad that we have enough horses this time for everyone? Now we won’t get to ride together.”

Brienne chuckled lightly and shook her head. “I imagine the horses will be most appreciative of that fact. Neither of us are terribly small.”

Jaime cocked a brow at Brienne and smiled mischievously as he changed the subject. “You know, every time we find ourselves passing through the Riverlands, our relationships changes. The first time we were enemies when Lady Catelyn set us off together. The second time was when I rode north to find you and inform you that we were betrothed. The third time was here and you agreed to remain my wife… although ordinarily the willing part happens before the vows bit. Who knows… mayhap when we come back south after returning Sansa home, there will be three of us for the horses to carry.”

From the look on Brienne’s face, Jaime knew what was coming. “Yes, mayhap a babe or mayhap I’ll have made myself a widow. Lets see how you behave up north.”

“Wench, threatening to kill me off already. Mayhap we’ve come full circle to our first time in the Riverlands instead.”

Not long after the Stormlands left, their group was ready to depart. It would be just shy of a fortnight to Winterfell and Jaime was eager to get there if only so that he could return south. He knew there was little more that he could do for Tommen and Genna beyond sending all of the West’s forces but being so far removed was worrying.

Jaime was also eager to truly start his life with Brienne. The thought of children had been on his mind since Brienne first mentioned it; albeit as a reason she thought Jaime shouldn’t wed her. He had never imagined himself with children until Brienne.

Yes, he had sired Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen, but Cersei kept him at an arm’s length. Even as an uncle, he was deemed ‘too close’ or her liking and relegated him to watching from afar.

What Jaime wanted more than anything was a chance to make a brood of little knights with Brienne. _Hopefully we have a lot of girls to piss Tywin off in whichever of the Seven Hells he is taking residence_. 

The group moved north quickly throughout the day and came to a village just south of Greywater Watch. The men made camp just outside the area while Brienne, Sansa, Tyrion, Jaime, Pod, Bronn, and two of Jaime’s senior most men made their way to an inn for the night.

Unlike other journeys with Brienne, Jaime was thrilled to avoid the awkwardness of room assignments. _Everyone else is on their own, I’m staying with my wife_. Dinner was uneventful and Bronn was quick to abandon their table to take the company of a local tavern whore. Even Jaime’s men seemed eager to get out of the inn and explore the ‘local fair’.

Pod, Tyrion, Sansa, Jaime, and Brienne sat around the table at the inn sharing a pitcher of wine. With their bellies full and worries few compared to the days prior, they spoke of mindless topics. It wasn’t until a group sat down near them that things took a sour turn.

A group of drunken locals laughed loudly and told bawdy jokes that would make Bronn raise a brow. One of the men appraised their table and did a doubletake at Brienne. Her face was still quite badly bruised, but she was otherwise looking healthier than just two days prior at the Twins.

The man gawking at Brienne had brown hair, blue eyes, and missing teeth. He looked as though he had been in one too many tavern brawls and was likely half the age he looked. With a snicker, he elbowed the man to his left and spoke loudly. “Seven hells, look at that one! She quite literally was beaten with an ugly stick.”

Jaime felt his blood boil and his flesh hand clenched into a fist. The look on Brienne’s face was all to accepting of the comment. A resigned look flitted across her features as she looked to her wine and took another sip. Jaime eyed the five men at the table. _I can take out at least two; three perhaps given I have a gold brick attached to my right arm. Hopefully Pod can take out at least one_.

Standing from his seat, Brienne grabbed his arm. “What are you doing?” Jaime gave Brienne an incredulous look. “I’m going to bash in what few remaining teeth that dolt has.”

“No. Please, just sit. Ignore it.” Brienne’s tone was imploring, but Jaime’s resolve would not break.

“I can take one or two.” Pod moved his wine to the middle of the table and stood from his seat.

Jaime flashed a winning smile at Pod. “Good lad. Two would be ideal. I’ll handle the others.”

Sansa and Tyrion shook their heads in resignation but did not try to sway Jaime from his plan. Moving towards the table, Jaime glared at the man as Pod approached his side.

“You have something to say about my wife?”

The man guffawed and looked to his friends. “Ya wife or ya husband?”

Before the man could turn his attention back to Jaime, his face felt the weight of gold across the bridge of his nose. “Where I come from, we don’t speak of ladies so disparagingly.”

The four remaining men at the table sprung up from their chairs and launched themselves at Jaime. True to his word, Pod easily took one of the drunkards out. He hit the man in the nose with the hilt of his sword and then placed another man in a headlock.

Jaime punched another with his flesh fist before tackling him to the ground. He expected to feel the fourth man’s hands at his back, but no assault came. Instead, the man fell to the floor beside him; face bloodied as he lay half conscious.

Looking up, Jaime observed Brienne standing over him. She sighed and rubbed at her knuckles before extending her hand to Jaime to help him up. The innkeeper ran over to see what the commotion was about; his eyes darting frantically to the men on the floor. Tyrion very diplomatically explained the situation given Jaime lacked the calmness.

To prevent more drastic action from being taken, the innkeeper requested the local group leave for the night and Jaime’s group retire to rooms. They agreed to depart at first light on the morrow; an arrangement that Jaime was all too happy to oblige.

As they moved into their assigned room, Jaime bit his bottom lip in irritation. Neither he nor Brienne spoke until the door was shut firmly behind them.

“Jaime, what are you doing? You can’t go around hitting every person who insults me or there will be no one left in all of Westeros.”

“I can and I will! I will not have my wife insulted by some pathetic excuse for a man.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t want to see you get hurt trying to defend me. I’m used to it, truly.” Brienne’s voice was laced with exhaustion. She ran her hand through her hair and sighed heavily.

“You shouldn’t be used to it and I will spend the rest of my life ensuring that any man who dares insult you like that will find himself unable to speak such filth for moons to come.”

Brienne moved to protest, but Jaime couldn’t take it any longer. He surged forward and captured Brienne’s lips, rising slightly on tip toes to do so. Pulling her head down to his, Jaime guided Brienne backwards towards the bed as their hands began clawing at one another’s clothing.

Layers of clothing were quickly discarded until they stood only in their smallclothes. Jaime felt Brienne’s hands come to the straps of his false hand. His heart raced at the thought of what was to come. Lowering her onto the bed after this maimed arm was free of the added weight, Jaime urged Brienne backwards towards the pillows.

The smell of her was intoxicating; uniquely Brienne. Jaime positioned himself between her legs and pressed slow, gentle kisses down Brienne’s neck. Grabbing her face, Jaime pressed Brienne further back onto the bed; his body melting into hers.

Brienne reached her right hand to his face before slowly dragging her fingers down his neck and back. Everywhere her fingers touched made Jaime’s body tingle with want. He could feel his cock hard against her pelvis. Testing her response, Jaime ground against her slightly.

When Brienne didn’t stiffen or recoil, Jaime began to grind rhythmically against her. He moaned into her mouth as they moved together. As though on instinct, Brienne bucked up against him, spurring Jaime on.

Jaime’s hand wandered lower to her breast before continuing south. Even with their smallclothes on, their body heat seemed high enough to set the fabric ablaze.

Every part of Jaime was screaming with want as he moved against her. Jaime’s continued rubbing against Brienne and his wondering hand elicited a gasp from her lips. _Gods. She’ll be the death of me_. Jaime’s left hand moved lower yet to her smallclothes as he searched for the sensitive bud between her legs.

At his touch, Brienne stiffened and immediately Jaime felt dread pool in his core. He immediately removed his hand and moved back. _Fuck. It’s too soon for her. The memory of Ramsay’s abuse too fresh._

Their eyes locked on one another and Brienne swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. I ruined it… I…”

Jaime placed a gentle kiss to her lips; effectively silencing her. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have.” Afraid to make her uncomfortable, Jaime moved beside Brienne and pulled her close. “I just want to hold you.”

As badly as Jaime wanted Brienne physically, he was more concerned with her comfort and emotional readiness. They would move at her pace and Jaime was just content having her near. He was happy to proclaim their love openly which was already more than he imagined possible.

They drifted off to sleep holding one another as though an anchor in turbulent seas. It was Brienne’s disquiet that roused Jaime from sleep some time later.

Jaime awoke to Brienne thrashing in the bed in the throes of a nightmare. Her jaw was clenched shut as she fought off an unseen assailant. Jaime tried to wake her gently; a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Brienne. Brienne, wake up.”

A slight sheen covered Brienne’s forehead as she sobbed in sleep. The only words that Jaime could make out were imploring. ‘No. Please. Stop.” An increased sense of urgency hit Jaime as he shook her more forcefully. “Brienne! Brienne, wake up, please!”

Brienne’s eyes flew open and she startled; retreating across the bed as she gasped for air. Taking in her surroundings, Brienne’s eyes were wild with fear as she searched for something or someone that Jaime couldn’t see. With her breathing steadying, she reached out to him. “Jaime.”

“I’m here. You were having a dream.” Jaime understood the torture that sleep could bring. For many years he dreamed of Aerys; wildfire and torture. For the past year he dreamed of Locke and his men: severed hands and bear pits.

The look in Brienne’s eyes crushed him. It was a look he often felt upon waking from those dreams. Guilt slowly pooled in Jaime’s core. _Did I cause this from touching her earlier? Did I raise this in her subconscious?_

Jaime waited patiently for Brienne to come back to him. For the fear in her eyes to dissipate. He was wary of touching her until she made the first move.

When at last she settled back down and stared at the ceiling, she spoke quietly; her voice distant and vulnerable. “I’m sorry that I woke you up.”


	28. A Thorny Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genna and Olenna speak in King's Landing.

Genna paced the halls of the keep after having left Tommen’s chambers. The boy was a mess. Margaery and Loras were still being held by the Faith. Cersei was due to make her walk of atonement later that day.

Making her way towards the small council chambers, Genna sighed and looked out the window as she passed. The missive from the Twins had arrived just a day prior. Genna felt relief that Brienne was alive and well enough, although she worried at her goodniece’s emotional state.

The remaining information was unsettling at best. _Leave it to Littlefinger to incite chaos throughout the kingdoms. Even in death, we’ll be dealing with this man’s schemes for moons to come_.

Within the missive, Tyrion had included a cryptic detail that Genna immediately understood. _‘The thorn wrapped around the young stag’s throat’_. Genna would need to tread cautiously with Olenna, but first they needed her forces.

The small council had been practically nonexistent since Genna arrived. Tommen had made Genna acting Hand following Tywin’s death. With Oberyn captured and Mace and Kevan dead at the hands of the Boltons and Baelish, they were down three council members. Genna had no one left but Grand Maester Pycelle which was as good as having no one.

According to Pycelle, Varys had slithered out of the capital not long after word of Tywin’s death came. Genna found herself alone in a field of thorn-lined roses. She had immediately set to work reaching out to Lady Olenna. _Keep your friends close and your enemies closer_.

Genna had called Olenna to the small council chambers for a discussion on what to do about the High Sparrow who Tommen had unwittingly unleashed on the capital. Genna very much doubted that Tommen acted of his own accord. The arming of the faith and timing of the Tyrell grandchildren’s imprisonment reeked of Cersei. 

Genna needed the Tyrell matriarch on her side against Cersei. She needed the Reach. She needed to keep Dorne at bay. 

Genna stepped into the small council chambers and saw the Queen of Thorns sitting in a chair at the table. “Well I must say, I never much cared for your brother, but at least he was punctual. You’re late.”

 _Seven take me now._ “Someone had to arrive first. You know what they say, age before beauty.”

Olenna’s eyes narrowed in thinly veiled distaste. As Genna took a seat opposite her, she pressed her lips into a thin smile that did not reach her eyes. “Now, let me be clear. I am not my brother in many ways. I have little time for speaking in riddles nor do I appreciate political schemes. Your grandchildren are in danger, as is my great-nephew. I think we can both agree that Joffrey was a miserable shit, but Tommen is a good boy.”

A slight hum pushed past Olenna’s lips, but she did not move to comment. Taking a deep breath, Genna continued. “Now, I’ve called you here because the survival of both of our houses rests on how we work together. We don’t need to like each other to accomplish that much. I’ve received word from my nephews. The crown has been framed by Baelish and the Boltons. As you know, Mace and Kevan were killed on the Gold Road as they made their way towards the city. Oberyn survives, but his lover and Prince Trystane were killed. My goodniece informed the boys that Baelish sent Tyrstane’s and Ellaria’s head to Dorne with a false claim from Cersei that this was her and the crown’s doing. They will move against King’s Landing which means they will move against Margaery.”

Genna watched closely as the Queen of Thorns digested the information and sighed deeply. “Littlefinger. The only disease in all of Westeros greater than your niece.”

“You’ll need to be more specific, dear. We Lannisters have an extensive family tree. I have a few nieces.” _Yes Olenna, I know who you mean, but do not forget my house’s reach and power. Tread carefully_. 

Olenna’s eyes narrowed in consideration of Genna. A small smile tugged at her lips. “You certainly are not your brother indeed. So, it seems you have need of my army.”

“It seems that _we_ have need of your army. Jaime is sending the full might of the West to guard the city. Our forces alone will protect us from Dorne, but with the aid of the Reach, we can limit the drain on resources to both kingdoms and present the necessary solidarity to the other kingdoms. No one will seek to touch Margaery nor Tommen once they see our houses stand together. With my new goodniece, we’ll also have the Stormlands at our back should the need arise.”

A flicker of amusement spread across Olenna’s face before she stuffed it behind her mask of indifference. “It’s true then? Your nephew has finally dropped his sister’s skirts in favor of dropping a pair of breeches.”

“Careful Olenna, I quite like the girl. From the reports I’ve received, my nephew has not been gentle with anyone offending or hurting her.”

Olenna scoffed. “I know Lady Brienne better than you. Unlike your nephew, she is trustworthy, loyal, and honorable. She may be your nephew’s only chance at redemption.”

“Speak cautiously where it concerns my favorite cub. He has sent _his_ army to protect his kin and _yours_. He has kept an oath to a dead woman when he had no reason to. He has turned on his own twin who manipulated him for the entirety of his life, so that he could to the right thing. You want to vent? Talk to me about Cersei and I’ll call up a barrel of wine.”

The returning expression on Olenna’s face was easy enough to read. With a conceding nod of the head, Olenna leaned back and taped her fingernails into the wooden table. “And what of Cersei? How do you plan to keep her from causing any more trouble than she already has? From where I sit, she almost cost you that favorite cub of yours. She almost cost you that goodniece you so enjoy. She almost cost me the grandchildren who I’m here for now.”

Genna’s eyes narrowed in consideration. “The agreement with the High Sparrow is that Cersei is to be placed on house arrest until her trial. Given her station, I won’t throw her in the black cells, but her door will be guarded around the clock. She will not leave her room nor speak to anyone without me present. Commit your forces to the crown and you may join me for every conversation with Cersei if it sets your mind a tease. I trust my niece as much as I trust a man of the Night’s Watch to abstain from visiting the brothels at Moles Town. Once we secure the safety of Tommen and Margaery from Dorne, we will address the matter of Cersei. She can’t stay in King’s Landing. She can’t go West as her brother may throw her from the highest point at the Rock. I’ll need someplace _safe_ to send her. I’m thinking the Silent Sisters.”

Olenna took in Genna’s words and sighed. “I think, Lady Genna, that we will have a much easier time working together than me and your brother. You have my army. I’ll call the Reach to the city to stand guard with the West until Dorne treats with us and sees Oberyn for himself. I trust he’ll be sent to us when well enough.”

Genna nodded. “Yes. Edmure Tully and his wife Roslin Frey will stay at the Twins and see him to health. I hope the missive that my nephews sent to Dorne on Oberyn’s behalf will make them take pause before doing anything stupid.”

Olenna nodded and ran her fingers across her chin. “My grandchildren. What of them? I will not have them make a walk of atonement; particularly Margaery. It would weaken the crown.”

“I agree. Either the High Sparrow will return them to us or our united forces will introduce them to the Stranger.”

With a nod of understanding, Olenna’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Now about that wine…”

Sometime later, Genna made her way to the castle entrance and prepared to receive her niece. She stood with four members of Gold Cloaks and Qyburn.

Qyburn was a strange man. Genna had encountered him the first day she arrived at King’s Landing. As much as the man unnerved her, Pycelle frustrated her even more. Genna suspected that Cersei might not be well after her imprisonment, so she had to bring one of the men. Neither man seemed trustworthy, but Qyburn had at least tended to Jaime effectively enough and as result, Genna trusted him more than Pycelle.

At Genna’s instructions, Tommen was to stay in his room. She didn’t want the boy seeing his mother in a state of despair, nor did she want the boy engaging with her. It would be crucial that she kept Cersei isolated and well-guarded until Margaery was released and safety against Dorne secure.

In the distance, she heard the crowds jeering. She heard the bell ringing and the repetitive chant of “shame!”. Not long after, she saw her niece. _My Gods. What have they done to her?_

Genna had never seen Cersei so exposed and vulnerable. She yelled for Qyburn to find something and cover her body. The former maester rushed to Cersei with a blanket. He spoke in soothing tones as tears streamed down Cersei’s face.

They guided Cersei back inside the keep and to her room. Qyburn took Cersei inside to ensure she was clothed and checked for any injury while Genna gave orders to the guards outside. “No one goes in this room without my authorization. She doesn’t come out. Meals will be brought up. Anything else she asks for, send someone to fetch me.”

The men nodded and Genna entered the room to collect Qyburn. The maester had just finished asking after her access to food while in confinement. They spoke a bit more before Genna decided enough was enough. They would call for a bath to be made and Genna would sit in the room to ensure Cersei didn’t start her usual scheming.

Later that evening, Genna paced the halls of the castle. It was unusually quiet and a striking contrast to the busy halls of the Rock. A smile stretched across Genna’s face as she recalled her dolt nephews having their race down the stairs at the Rock on shields while the ladies watched on.

She remembered their laughter echoing off the walls as they lay on the ground rolling around while their traitor women ran to Brienne’s room to avoid Genna’s wrath. They thought her angry and unamused. Genna played the part of displeased aunt, but her heart was warm at the sight and sound of the foursome.

Jaime and Tyrion need those girls as much as those girls need Jaime and Tyrion. They’ll take care of each other. Bring out the best in each other. Something tells me that they’ll need each other more than they realize.


	29. The Wild North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group makes it to winterfell and they get some visitors.

It took near a fortnight from the inn outside Greywater Watch, but they finally arrived at Winterfell three days prior. The journey had been marked by inhospitable weather and limited shelter. Inns were scarce or full as they made the way north and the group needed to huddle in tents most nights.

On the occasion they did find an inn, Brienne was relieved to only share a space with Jaime. She was still plagued by nightmares of Ramsay’s torture which mingled with nightmares of Locke’s men; the prior tormenters of her dreams.

She felt badly about disturbing Jaime’s sleep as much as she did. She worried over whether he would tire of her issues and regret being with her. Brienne had spent much of her life loving others from afar in some form; whether familial or romantic. Her love of others always came unconditional, but she didn’t think herself worthy of the same.

The mere fact that Jaime loved her felt foreign and delicate. _Surely he can’t love me as much as I do him_. _He’ll tire of me at some point; especially with how he has been going to such extremes for me. That will grow old quickly._

Standing in the great hall at Winterfell, Brienne listened as Sansa and Tyrion debated how best to handle the abandoned Dreadfort. Just hearing about the Bolton’s home brought back a flood of unpleasant memories. As if sensing her internal discord, Jaime reached over and grabbed her hand. “Walk with me? Northern matters are as boring as its landscape.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, but happily exited the room with him. They walked along the ramparts hand in hand as Jaime prattled on about how it was too cold and too dreary and too Ned. _What does that even mean?_

They came to a halt in the middle of the battlements. Brienne looked out at the expanse of frost covered terrain and pine trees dotting the landscape. Leaning against the wall and staring at her face, Jaime furrowed his brows. “You can talk to me you know.”

With a slight laugh, Brienne tilted her head in consideration. “I think you talk enough for the both of us.”

A wide smile spread across Jaime’s face as he pushed off the wall and moved to her, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I mean you can talk to me about the things that bother you. Like… the Boltons.”

Brienne shifted her weight from foot to foot as her eyes fell to the stonework below. “I just want it to stop.”

“I know.” Jaime wrapped his arms around her hips and tugged her close. It was still difficult to reconcile that Jaime Lannister wanted her. Difficult to fathom that they were married, and he seemed pleased by it.

“I’m sorry its ruining everything.” Brienne spoke the words and meant several things. Sorry I keep disturbing your sleep. Sorry I stiffen when your hand touches me _there_. Sorry I can’t move past it.

“You’re not ruining anything, Brienne. In the past year you have been captured twice by the Boltons. Twice they threatened you with rape. And this last time…” Jaime’s jaw clenched in anger as he bit his bottom lip. “It isn’t you who should feel sorry for anything. It’s them. They received too gentle a death.”

Brienne sighed and rubbed her face vigorously. “I know that I didn’t commit a wrong, but it’s coming between us.”

“No! It never could. Nothing can. I still see Aerys in my dreams, using wildfire to burn everyone. I still see Locke taking my hand. I still see you in a bear pit or being threatened by Locke’s men. You’ve calmed me through just as many nightmares. I like being there for you. We help each other.”

The press of Jaime’s stubbled jawline against her cheek sent a warmth through Brienne’s core. His scent was intoxicating and distinctively Jaime. Brienne knew she could never mistake him for another should one or more of her senses fail. She knew his touch, his voice, his smell, and his features better than anyone she had ever met.

It seemed laughable now, thinking back on her childhood crush of Renly. Brienne felt an overwhelming fear claw at her throat. _I can’t lose Jaime._ The thought came to her unbidden. There was no imminent threat, physical or verbal, yet Brienne couldn’t shake the thought that there would be another challenge just as they made their way to safety from the last.

Throwing her arms around Jaime’s shoulders, Brienne let herself sink into him. Jaime pressed small kisses to her jaw as she exhaled into his neck. Something in the distance caught her eye and a slight chill went down her spine.

“Jaime.” Pulling back his head, Jaime saw the worry in her eyes. He turned his head to follow her eyeline and immediately stepped before her protectively. _What the fuck is that?_

Gripping Jaime’s arm, Brienne took a step forward and squinted at the tree line to the west. A giant emerged from the woods and he wasn’t alone. What looked to be wildlings walked at the giant’s side.

Jaime leaned over the battlement and called down to his men to fall into formation. He yelled to one of his generals to alert Tyrion and Sansa. The Lannister army was well trained and quickly moved into position outside the castle gates. Brienne took a step closer to assess the incoming threat.

They didn’t appear to be charging in nor positioning themselves in an aggressive manner. No weapons were drawn, nor did Brienne hear battle cries. She looked to Jaime and saw his brows furrow slightly as he muttered to himself.

“What is it?” Brienne questioned Jaime before looking back to the approaching group.

“I think that’s… I swear that man in the middle is Ned Stark’s bastard.”

Within moments, Sansa and Tyrion were running towards them atop the battlements. Both looked out and saw the incoming group. Tyrion’s jaw went slack. “Gods. I thought you two were tall. Brienne’s cousin is marching at us.”

Brienne huffed in exasperation but cast a warm look at Tyrion. She liked her goodbrother more and more. He was kind, intelligent, loyal, and funny. Most importantly, he accepted her and never made japes in cruelty. There was a fondness to his teasing that resonated when he spoke.

“Well I don’t much recall inviting him, so I would prefer if we returned from wherever he came.” Brienne put her hand to Oathkeeper as she began to move down the steps and towards the gates.

Running to catch up, Jaime grabbed her arm. “You’re not going out there! What if they attack?” Brienne looked at Jaime as though he sprouted a second head. “If they attack, I draw my sword.”

“It’s Jon!” Sansa’s voice cut through the crisp northern air as she clapped and pushed past them down the steps. Looking back at the brothers, a visible relief swam in their eyes as they moved to follow Sansa. They caught up quickly and the four Lannisters made their way through the gates and to the front of the Lannister army. Bronn and Pod stood among the generals at the front.

Brienne looked back at the castle. The Bolton banners had been removed from the walls of the castle in favor of Stark banners. A slight smirk spread across Brienne’s face. _Sansa may be married to Tyrion, but she will always be a Stark just as I will always be a Tarth._

On the way north, the women had spoken on the matter. It was clear that they were pleased in their marriages even though Sansa had yet to define what specifically her relationship with Tyrion was. Despite their newfound fondness for the Lannister name on account of their husbands and Genna, neither of them were willing to give up their heritage.

Brienne had taken the Lannister name in every way, but she bore her Tarth sigil proudly and couldn’t wait to return to her island; eager to show Jaime around her childhood home.

Sansa by contrast was happy to be married to Tyrion but contemplated how best to present herself. _‘Cersei kept her Lannister identity even as wife to Robert. Surely I can find a way to be known as a Stark yet wed to a Lannister. It just might be the only way that I wish to be like her.’_

As they awaited the incoming party, Sansa turned to Brienne with a childlike smile etched on her face. “You’re going to like Jon. He reminds me of you, although I regret I wasn’t kinder to him in youth. He is brave, loyal, kind, and skilled with a blade.”

A returning smile stretched across Brienne’s face at the compliment. Sansa looked back to the group nearing them and breathed deeply. Brienne stood to Sansa’ left as Jaime stood to her side. Tyrion was at Sansa’s right.

Sansa’s excitement became palpable and Brienne found it contagious. Her own lips pulled wider into a smile as Sansa took off and ran into Jon’s arms. The young man picked her up and twirled her around as they clung to one another.

“Gods! Jon, you’re alive. I’ve been so fearful that I’m the only one left.” Sansa grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the Lannisters. Jon’s eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of Tyrion and Jaime.

Looking first to Tyrion, Jon beamed. “Lord Tyrion! Good to see you again.” Tyrion stepped forward and greeted Jon warmly. Brienne’s brows furrowed as she wondered how the two knew one another. Sansa stepped to Jon’s side and spoke warmly. “Lord Tyrion and I are wed now.”

At the words, Jon stiffened, and his face fell. Seeing his surprise, Sansa placed a calming hand on his arm and spoke quickly. “We were forced by Lord Tywin, but Lord Tyrion has been kind, protective, and honorable. I’m glad of it. We have much to discuss on everything that happened in King’s Landing.”

With Sansa’s reassurances, Jon relaxed a bit and nodded to Tyrion. “Thank you for watching over her.” Tyrion smiled again and nodded. “You need not thank me for that. I’m happy to.”

Jon’s eyes wandered to Brienne and Jaime. Something dark passed over Jon’s features when he saw Jaime. Leaning into her ear, Jaime whispered teasingly. “He adores me as his father did. This will be great.”

_Oh Gods._

Sansa tugged Jon along and Brienne watched with unease as Jon’s eyes did not leave Jaime. “Jon, this is Lady Brienne. My goodsister. She was sworn sword to my mother and came looking for me. She found Arya! She even defeated the Hound to try and get to her.”

Jon’s eyes widened at the words. “Truly? Is Arya here!? Is she alright?”

Brienne offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m very sorry, but she wouldn’t come with me. I think she found my sword and attire slightly too _Lannister_ to trust at the time. She did look well though and we’ll try our best to find her again.”

Disappointment flickered across Jon’s face as he nodded in understanding. “Well I thank you for watching over Sansa as well.”

Brienne watched as Sansa glanced between Jaime and Jon. “Jon, you remember Ser Jaime.”

“How could I forget?” Jon’s tone was devoid of warmth as he appraised Jaime. A huff of laughter pushed past Jaime’s lips as he held Jon’s gaze. Bronn slowly walked up beside them, gripping his belt in his hands and with a mischievous smile across his face. 

“This one likes ya, huh?” Bronn elbowed Jaime’s side and looked at Jon.

Sensing the tension, Sansa interjected. “Jon, Ser Jaime saved me. He, Tyrion, and Brienne rescued me from Littlefinger. Baelish was going to sell me off to the Boltons and from what I’ve seen, I likely would not have lived.” Sansa cast a sympathetic glance to Brienne before continuing.

“Ser Jaime marched his army north to defeat the Boltons, Littlefinger, and the Freys. He helped me and Uncle Edmure take our revenge on those who wronged us. He and his men returned me home safely as he promised to mother. I would not be alive were it not for him, Brienne, and Tyrion.”

With a heavy sigh and understanding nod, Jon smile appreciatively at Jaime. “Thank you, Ser Jaime for all you’ve done. I’m curious to hear more from my sister.” Extending his right hand on, Jon quickly realized the mistake and switched hands. “Oh, apologies.”

Jaime took Jon’s hand with his left. “I understand. When we last met, I had two hands. Hopefully I won’t lose another along the way.”

Looking back to his group, Jon extended an arm. “I met many of these men and women north of the wall. They’re Free Folk. I’ve left the Night’s Watch and they’ve come south with me. I have much to tell you about as well.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly. _Don’t men of the Night’s Watch serve for life? Then again… so did Kingsguard and now I’m married to one._

Jon continued as he looked back to Sansa. “This is Tormund Giantsbane. They don’t believe in kings as we do, but he is their leader in spirit if not in name.” Brienne watched as a giant redheaded wilding stepped forward. Tormund scanned their group and his eyes landed on her.

His jaw went slack and his eyes roamed her body. _Perfect. Here comes a jape._

The wilding muttered under his breath as he drank her in. “Glorious woman.”

_What?_

At the words which were just loud enough for the group to hear, Bronn guffawed loudly as Jaime pressed himself closer at Brienne’s side. “Yes, my _wife_ is glorious.”

Tormund’s eyes went wide. “Wife? Did you win her?”

Brienne and Jaime exchanged a confused look as Jon sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Tormund, that’s not how things work here.”

Confusion flickered across his face as he again appraised Brienne. His eyes were like that of a starved man eyeing fresh kill. Brienne glanced to the rest of the group.

Sansa looked as horrified as Brienne felt, but Tyrion was trying and failing to cover his spreading smile and laughter. Bronn was enjoying this far too much and Jaime looked as though he might run the man through with his sword.

A territorial arm moved around Brienne’s waist. The movement did not go unnoticed by Tormund who eyed Jaime’s false hand. A questioning expression spread across his features, but whatever the wildling considered saying was pushed aside as Jon spoke again.

“Word reached us of the Twins. House Manderly sent word from White Harbor to the Wall that you were returning home. The Wildlings were not welcome to stay, so they’ve come with me. I’m hoping you would consider giving them shelter in the North. I understand you’re to lead now. I’m so proud of you, Sansa.”

Brienne felt touched by the man’s words and looked to Sansa with pride. “Yes, of course. Lets discuss the details of where they may settle, but I do believe that I have the perfect solution.”

Sansa looked to Tyrion whose brows raised knowingly. A smile flickered across his face. Turning to Jaime, Brienne smirked. _It would be fitting._ _People considered savages living in the castle of actual savages._

Jaime looked less amused as his eyes were still fixed on the wildling. His features were a dangerous mix of protectiveness and jealousy. Seeking to calm him, Brienne placed a gentle hand to his jaw and leaned in against him, drawing his attention back to her. “Do _you_ want to go on a walk now, husband?”

Jaime huffed a laugh and offered his arm. “Come my lady, lets look at the dreary frost-bitten landscape again.”


	30. The Lady in the North

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa continues to restore the North and receives a surprise guest.

They had been at Winterfell for nearly a week and Sansa was making much progress in uniting the North. She had sent missives the day of their arrival to the vassals of the North informing them that a Stark was back at Winterfell and would again rule the North.

A missive from King’s Landing with Tommen’s proclamation was already awaiting them upon arrival, just as Jaime said it would be. _I do suppose ravens travel faster than an army. Let us hope the same is the case for Dorne._

Sansa had grown fond of her goodbrother. She had initially judged him as Cersei’s twin, but grown to love him as Tyrion’s brother. Jon remained at Winterfell to help Jaime and Brienne amass northern defenses for the castle and train the men. Not surprisingly, the northerners had been reluctant to accept the aid of the Lannisters; Jaime in particular.

The wildlings would soon set out for the Dreadfort, but they stayed behind to learn the ways of the North at Jon’s insistence. As they learned ‘southern’ customs and expectations, they also helped around the castle. Many parts of Winterfell had been neglected by the Botlons and in desperate need of repairs.

Still, the Free Folk were an anomaly to Sansa and Tyrion. They would not bend to the crown nor to Sansa, but they were willing to commit aid should Sansa call on them. They seemed genuine enough and Jon vouched for them, but there was something too wild about them that made Sansa wonder at their ability to acclimate to life in the Seven Kingdoms. 

Jon and Tormund spent much time harassing Sansa and Tyrion with word of the threat beyond the Wall. It sounded absurd and little more than one of old Nan’s stories intended to keep young children in line. 

There was another reason that Sansa imagined Tormund and his people stayed longer at Winterfell. Brienne.

Poor Brienne tried her best to avoid the redheaded Wildling, but the man sought her out at every turn. It wasn’t invasive enough to warrant a talking to or a ‘beatdown from Jaime’, as Tyrion put it. The man was infatuated with Brienne and tried to find every opportunity to speak with her, train with her, or eat with her.

The only thing that Sansa found remotely amusing about the situation was watching her goodbrother’s reaction to the man. Jaime seemed more attached to Brienne than ever as if taking on the part of her own personal Kingsguard. If Tormund sat beside Brienne for a meal, Jaime would wedge himself in the small space between the pair that was scarcely large enough for a toddler.

In the yard, Jaime’s hand would twitch at his side when Brienne acquiesced to a spar with the redhead. As annoying as Tormund could be, he was an excellent fighter and Brienne seemed to enjoy being challenged by a new style. Every time the match would end however, Jaime would immediately step in to claim his turn for ‘a dance’ with his lady.

Tyrion was less entertained by the threesome. He worried that Jaime would eventually snap and crack the redhead across the face. “My brother has never been one for sharing and the Wilding is not taking the hint. The last thing I need are the Lannister soldiers starting a brawl with the Wildings as we’re trying to establish decorum here.”

It was near supper time and the castle occupants had just sat down to eat. Bronn caught sight of the Wildings entering the hall and the sellsword eagerly waved over Tormund, much to Jaime’s displeasure.

With a pointed glare at Bronn, Jaime chastised the man. “What the fuck are you doing? Can we have one meal without that savage gnawing on a bone while drooling over my wife?” For her part, Brienne sighed and shifted closer to Jaime, wary of what was to come.

Sansa chuckled as Pod rapidly rounded the table to take the open seat next to Brienne. _Now that is a good squire_. Tormund frowned on approach but took the newly available seat beside Bronn. Quite the opposite of Tyrion, Bronn encouraged Tormund in his overt pursuit of Brienne. He found the situation altogether too amusing.

With a stiff bow, Tormund attempted to showoff his newly learned ‘southern customs’. “My lady warrior, we missed you in the yard today.” Bronn sniggered and clapped Tormund on the shoulder as the large man sat down with a thud.

Brienne wiggled uncomfortably in her seat as Jaime’s arm came to rest territorially over her shoulder. “I was quite busy meeting with _my husband_ and his men. You do remember, _my husband_ , don’t you? Ser Jaime.”

Jaime gave a mock smile and waved with his free hand. “Yes, I’m still married to her. In case you forgot.”

Tormund grunted in reply and took a long sip of the ale he had acquired upon entering the hall. “Yes, I see him though he is a little man. You know, a woman such as yourself could make great, power, monster babies that could rule the world. I’m big enough.”

Watching her goodbrother’s jaw grind in anger, Sansa muffled a snort. Brienne was quick to respond however. “My husband is taller than you Tormund so he can’t be that difficult to miss. Also… whether you think him little or big, he is certainly strong enough.”

A shared memory passed between Jaime and Brienne after she spoke the words. One of those looks that Sansa worried might lead to a very long, loud night in the castle. From the few conversations that Sansa and Brienne had privately on the matter, Sansa knew that it had yet to happen.

Sansa had originally hoped to have someone to commiserate with when her time came, but she was instead shocked to learn that Brienne was still a maid. It was only when Brienne confided about her nightmares and hesitance, that Sansa understood. Her heart broke for Brienne, but she also found herself more appreciative that she friend had a husband like Jaime. Someone who put her needs before his own as it was more than obvious to Sansa, that Jaime would be a very willing and eager participant whenever Brienne was ready to consummate their marriage.

Before the conversation could continue, the doors to the hall burst open. A pair of newly appointed Northern guards came in to announce the arrival of House Umber. Sansa and Tyrion exchanged an excited smile and bid the guards escort the vassal in.

House Umber had always been one of the most loyal and dependable houses to her father. It would take a house like theirs to pledge their loyalty and help ensure Sansa’s continued security in the North.

Moments later, Smalljon Umber entered the hall with a large group of his men. With him was Rickon, an unknown woman, and Rickon’s direwolf, Shaggydog.

A guttural sob pushed past Sansa’s lips at the sight of her baby brother. “Rickon!” Sansa jumped from her seat and ran to her brother, now a young man. The past couple of years had aged Rickon incredibly, but all Sansa cared about was his health and safety.

Rickon clung to Sansa and let out a small sob of his own. Looking over his shoulder, Sansa watched as a wide smile stretched across Smalljon’s face. He bowed as their eyes met. “Lady Sansa. It’s good to see you again.”

Sansa broke the hug with Rickon and looked to the man with an appreciative smile. “Thank you for returning my brother home.”

Smalljon huffed a laugh. “Aye, we couldn’t let the Boltons get to him. These three showed up on our lands and we hid them away until the threat from the Bolton’s passed. No doubt your kin would hunt me down in the Seven Hells if I let harm befall the lad.”

With a nod of appreciation, Sansa looked back to Rickon and stroked his head. “Come and sit down. All of you. You must be famished after you journey.”

The new arrivals found space in the hall as Sansa welcome Smalljon to the head table. She introduced everyone, but the lord’s eyes lingered a bit too long for her liking on the Lannister brothers. “I saw the lions outside and worried that we might be walking into a trap. It wasn’t until my scouts conferred with the Northern guards that I heard they are… _allies_.”

Sansa and Tyrion had a wordless conversation pass between them before Sansa explained the situation. She gave Smalljon context for all that had happened in the capital and after she left. The lord’s face was a mix of emotions throughout the story. When her piece was said, Sansa watched as the lord slowly appraised the Lannister brothers again.

His face was still hesitant, but he sighed heavily and looked back to Sansa. “So, the lions are at war with themselves now. You say these two helped get revenge for what happened at the Twins? Fine. If you say they are trustworthy, I’ll say no more on the matter, but… that one.” Smalljon cast a pointed finger at Jaime and narrowed his eyes. “When your mother sent the Kingslayer off with _her_ , your brother was not happy of it. He killed his king! How much can you truly trust _him_.”

Smalljon eyed Jaime and Brienne with distaste; his brows knitted together as he straightened his back to full height.

Sansa stood abruptly from her seat. “Be careful Lord Umber. That is my goodbrother you speak of. He saved me from certain death at the hands of the Boltons and Baelish. He amassed an army to remove threats to my house. He kept his oath to my mother and returned me home. Neither of us were at King’s Landing when he killed Aerys, but if the quality of the man that I have come to know is any indication, I doubt it was for self-serving reasons. I will have no man in the north speak the name ‘Kingslayer’ with contempt in his voice.”

From the corner of her eye, Sansa could see Jaime’s eyes go wide in shock; his jaw slack. Tyrion sucked in an audible breath at her side as an awkward silence filled the hall. Any chatter from the surrounding tables died down at Sansa’ words.

After a tense moment, Smalljon laughed and clapped the table loudly. “You are certainly the young wolf’s brother! Fine, fine. I’ll say no more on the matter, my lady. You have House Umber’s continued loyalty of course.”

The members of House Glove banged their ale mugs in agreement with their lord and everyone returned to their private conversations over supper. Slowly sitting down, Sansa felt Tyrion’s hand search for hers under the table. He leaned over and whispered into her ear. “Well my lady, you might be more of a force than your mother or father ever were. I also think my brother’s jaw may have fallen off. Such a shame… it truly was his best feature.”

Sometime later after seeing their guests settled comfortably and Smalljon awarded a room befitting both his station and effort to keep Rickon safe, Sansa and Tyrion made their way to their chambers. Sansa thought it time to have a discussion with Tyrion about a topic weighing heavily on her mind.

As they moved inside and shut the door, Sansa grabbed his hand and led Tyrion to the chairs positioned before the roaring fire. “Tyrion, I want to discuss something that has been on my mind for some time now.”

Tyrion looked to Sansa with inquisitive eyes but waited for her to continue. Sansa took a deep breath and held Tyrion’s gaze. “I know why our match was made. Your father wanted control of the North and having me wed to you was his way to get it. Neither of us wanted the match, but most men in your position would have taken the chance at power. You could have been Warden and gotten me with babe despite my protests. You’ve been a good man to me and of late, a true friend. I want to be honest with you though… about my feelings. Let us always be honest with one another of our feelings rather than ‘Jaime and Brienne’ about it.”

Sansa and Tyrion shared a chuckle at her last comment before Sansa continued. “I think our love can grow. Lately, I have been feeling there is something more to our match. Something deeper that I feel when I look at you or our hands touch. Your father may have seen us wed for his own gains, but I do believe the Gods brought us together for a reason. If you feel the same, I would very much like to make this a true marriage. To let our love grow.”

A wide smile spread across Tyrin’s face. “I think my lady, that you might well be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I would very much like to make this marriage true and support you in whatever way that I can.”

With a returning smile, Sansa leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to the corner of Tyrion’s lips. Much to her surprise and delight, Tyrion placed a hand at the back of her neck and pulled her closer for a gentle kiss to the lips. That night when Sansa fell asleep in Tyrion’s arms, she smiled at the direction her life was moving.

She was back home in the North. Rickon was returned safely to her. Jon was home and taking on a supportive role at Winterfell. Tyrion was her husband in more than name. He was becoming her husband in heart. He had already become a friend and confidant, but now they could become something more. Then a thought hit her. _With Rickon home, will I still play the role of Lady of Winterfell, Warden of the North?_


	31. More Pleasant Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime goes to Tyrion for some advice. Tormund finally pushes too far and Brienne puts him in his place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW content ahead - a little break from the action before getting into more plot ahead

Jaime’s knuckled rapped on the door to Tyrion’s and Sansa’s room. The flickering candlelight from the torches adorning the hallway cast long, crisscrossing shadows on the wall. It was an overcast day outside which meant darkened corridors and dreary moods.

 _Gods. No wonder the Northerners are all so brooding. This weather is miserable_.

The door swung open to reveal Tyrion who looked far too eager to see Jaime. Earlier that day, Jaime had asked for Tyrion’s aid regarding a matter that required discretion. The younger man’s eyes beamed with delight. Since they were boys, Tyrion loved being perceived as the only one who could solve his big brother’s woes.

“Brother. Please, come in. I’ve got the wine.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed in confusion at the words. “I didn’t ask for wine.”

“You didn’t need to. I can tell that it will be required.”

Entering the room, Jaime appraised the state of it. _Gods, still a mess_. There were books from the Winterfell library all over the room. Clothing was careless thrown about and one chest in the corner was overturned.

Tyrion invited Jaime to take a seat in one of the chairs by the fireplace as he poured an overflowing glass of wine. _I truly do not want to be drunk for this conversation_. Handing the overflowing cup to Jaime, Tyrion sat down with his own and smiled eagerly.

“I do so enjoy when you come to me with questions that only I can solve. So, what is this about? You want my opinion on dealing with the shit vassals when you return to the Rock? To be honest, I’ve been thinking on the matter for years, but not one took the time to ask me. The damn Westerlings have got to be brought to heel more…”

Jaime cut Tyrion off and shook his head. “What? No, it’s none of that.” He watched as Tyrion’s brows knitted in confusion; his eyes narrowing as he looked to Jaime.

Under his brother’s scrutiny and the nature of the topic, Jaime felt his neck and ears redden. Tyrion tilted his head in response to his brother’s increasingly discomforted state.

“It’s um… about… women.”

Tyrion snorted, but quickly covered his mouth. “Oh. Well this is a topic that I did not expect to cover with a man who has already produced three children, but I’m game. Do you need a reminder where to put it?”

Jaime glared at his brother and huffed in irritation. _I shouldn’t have come to him for this. He is going to be insufferable about it._

“Never mind. This was a bad idea.” Jaime moved to leave, but Tyrion leapt from his chair and implored him to sit back down. “I’m sorry! I was not expecting _that_. Do go on. I’ll be quiet.”

Playing with the hem of his jerkin, Jaime stared at the fabric; too embarrassed to look Tyrion in the eye. “You’ve been with a lot of women. I imagine you know what they like. I can’t… using my hand brings back unpleasant memories for Brienne. I don’t know what else to do to make her feel good.”

When no response came, Jaime glanced up through his lashes to see Tyrion’s face. His younger brother’s face betrayed his shock at the topic, but any jape previously in Tyrion’s tone was gone when he next spoke. “Gods I don’t really want to ask this, but… have you truly never used your…” Tyrion gestured to his mouth before continuing. “… with _her_.”

Jaime shook his head in denial. “We never had time for all that. Everything was always rushed. I used my hand a bit, but she always yelled at me to be quick about it so we just…” _Fucked_.

Tyrion sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright. That’s plenty of information, thank you. Have you and Brienne even fucked yet?”

Jaime scoffed; an incredulous look on his face. “No! I don’t want to rush her. She has been through a lot. I just… I want to make her feel good. I don’t know. This was a bad idea. Forget it.”

With a hand extended in protest, Tyrion prevented Jaime from moving to stand again. “No, no. This is not a bad idea. Just… I have a thought. Wait here.”

 _Wait here? What? Why?_ The door slammed shut as Tyrion rushed from the room to an unknown location. Jaime buried his face in his hand and reprimanded himself for thinking to seek Tyrion’s help on the matter. _Gods. This is beyond embarrassing._

When soon Jaime’s wine cup was empty and he thought to leave, the door again opened, and two male voices could be heard entering. Jaime turned around in his chair to see Tyrion walking into the room with Pod.

_Oh Gods no!_

Jaime’s eyes went wide in horror and Tyrion immediately put up his hands defensively. “I know what you’re going to say! Just hear me out. Pod here is an expert at this.”

“He’s a boy! And Brienne’s squire mind you!”

Tyrion scoffed and rolled his eyes. “And how old were you the first time and you _her_ started experimenting.”

_Point well made._

“When Pod squired for me in King’s Landing, we had an incident.” Tyrion took his seat after indicating where Pod could find another chair to pull up to join them.

“Alright this is not what I want to hear about. Whatever you two did together in…”

Tyrion recoiled as if struck. “What!? No! Do shut up, Jaime. The incident was at Littlefinger’s brothel. Bronn and I wanted to buy Pod here his first whores. He returned sometime later… with the coin we gave him.”

Jaime rubbed at his eyes and wished the Strange would put him out of his misery. “Great. So the whores deemed him to young and sent him home.”

Tyrion chuckled and looked to Pod. “Oh, trust me. Pod here became _very_ well acquainted with the ladies. Listen, I could have brought Bronn in here, but you asked for discretion. Pod will not tell a soul what we discuss in this room. We’ll get this taken care of!”

Casting an unamused glance at Tyrion, Jaime contemplated strangling him. An all too amused smile stretched across his younger brother’s face. For his part, Pod looked slightly confused. “I’m sorry my lords, but what is going on?”

Sometime later, Jaime left the room feeling exhausted and confused. _So many instructions. Should it really be that complicated?_ At first, Pod had looked as horrified as Jaime felt when Tyrion explained what was going on. Good, sweet, reliable Pod kept a brave face on. His only ask was to not hear about the outcome of Jaime’s efforts. _‘It would be as pleasant as hearing your own conception story.’_

Making his way to the yards, Jaime spotted Bronn, Brienne, and a few of his generals sparring. She was magnificent to watch and nothing amused Jaime more than seeing her knock his men’s asses into the dirt.

On approach, Jaime smiled when their eyes met. She had just bested Bronn after a well-fought match and even the sellsword looked impressed. From the corner of his eye, Jaime saw the wildling approach. _Fucking hells. This man just can’t take a hint_.

“My lady warrior. What a fight! You were glorious.” Tormund beamed as he assessed Brienne. _On the one hand, I want to commend the man on his impeccable taste in women. On the other hand, I want to break his nose with my golden hand_.

Jaime felt secure in his marriage to Brienne. The bond they had felt unbreakable and her disinterest in the wilding was evident, but it irritated Jaime to no end that the man blatantly ignored Brienne’s status as a married woman; particularly when Jaime was standing _right there._

Brienne muttered under her breath as she moved to stand closer to Jaime’s side. “Thank you, Tormund.” A polite yet uncomfortable smile pulled at Brienne’s lips.

The wilding’s brows rose excitedly, and he took another step closer. “Want to spar?”

“I was just about to head inside and have a bath. Maybe another time.” Brienne grabbed Jaime’s arm to leave, but Tormund quickly clutched Brienne’s elbow in protest and tugged her back slightly. “Just a quick spar.”

Something in Jaime snapped at the movement. He rounded on the wildlings and pushed himself between Bienne and Tormund. “She said no! Don’t touch her. You never touch her when she says no!”

Tormund’s eyes widened in surprise at the outburst. “I was talking to the lady warrior.”

“Her name is Brienne. Brienne _Lannister_ of Tarth. My wife. She said she doesn’t want a spar, so leave her be.” Jaime turned to leave with Brienne who was standing there watching the exchange in surprise.

As Jaime turned to leave again, Tormund chuckled loudly. “You’re an angry little man. I would be too if I were you. Where I’m from, women want a man who can keep them safe. How can you do that for her with one hand?”

Jaime felt his jaw clench in anger, but before he could respond, Brienne pushed past him in a blind range. “Shut your mouth! I would not be alive today were it not for Ser Jaime. He has saved me more times in the past year than any other man could in a lifetime. He lost that hand protecting _me_! No one can keep me safer than he can. You could have ten hands and still do less to protect me.”

Tormund stood in shock as Brienne spat the words at him. Her face was flush with anger and her hands balled into fists at her side. Looking around the yard, Jaime could see the curious eyes of the Lannister men and wildings watching the scene unfold. Even Bronn was speechless which took quite a lot.

Stumbling to reply, Tormund shook his head. “Apologies. I just thought…”

Before he could finish, Brienne interjected. “You thought wrong. I want no man except my husband. Is that clear enough?”

With a dumbfounded look on his face, Tormund nodded his head at them both. Jaime’s chest swelled with pride and awe as he looked to his wife. Turning away from Tormund, Brienne muttered in irritation under her breath as she rejoined Jaime’s side.

Jaime slipped his left hand around her waist and smiled. “I think you scared him. Either he pissed himself or he hasn’t been introduced to the ‘southern’ concept of a bath yet.”

A small smirk quirked at Brienne’s lips as she looked to him. They made their way inside towards their room. Jaime flagged down a castle attendant on the way and asked for water to be brought up for the bath. When they entered the room, Jaime poured Brienne some water and placed lazy kisses on the back of her neck as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I so enjoy when you get angry. It’s very sexy.” A huff of laughter pushed past her lips at his words. Brienne turned in his arms and tilted her head; a sarcastic smile on her face. The smile abruptly dropped though as she looked down slightly. “You know, I meant what I said. Tormund had no right to question your ability.”

Jaime pressed his lips to hers in response as his arms pulled her close to him. His cock sprung to life as their kiss deepened, but a knock at the door ended the mounting passion. Brienne moved to answer it as Jaime sat down to mask his arousal.

When the door swung open, a group of attendants moved in with buckets of water to fill the tub at the corner of the room. Once the tub was full and the attendants gone, Brienne began stepping out of her clothing. She sunk into the water with a relived sigh. Jaime knew the sensation all too well.

Jaime watched as Brienne quickly scrubbed at her body and washed her hair. A sly smile flickered across his face as he began to disrobe. Brienne looked to him in confusion. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a bath with you?”

Brienne snorted. “I barely fit in here as it is!”

Jaime chuckled and moved to get into the tub with her. “Gods wench, move forward. This time there isn’t another tub so you have to share.”

Wedging himself behind Brienne and against the back of the tub, Jaime pulled her back against his chest. “That’s better. We should have bathed like this the first time. Much more comfortable and I wouldn’t have risked drowning with your body keeping me upright.”

Brienne chuckled lightly as they sat in companionable silence for some time. Jaime began trailing light kisses to her shoulder, neck, and jaw. Everything about Brienne was intoxicating to Jaime. He couldn’t get enough of her. Jaime felt his cock begin to stir and he tried to sit back more so as not to startle her.

As Brienne turned her head to the side, their lips came together. Jaime hummed in satisfaction into her lips as the kiss deepened. His heart quickened as his breathing shallowed. Since leaving the Twins, they spent many nights pressed together kissing passionately as though the world was coming to an end around them. It always ended the same, with Brienne slowly backing away uncertainly and Jaime soothing her to sleep.

Jaime was content to wait as long as Brienne needed to consummate their union, but he also wanted to help Brienne make new memories of pleasant touch. He wanted to help her heal emotionally before his own desires were fulfilled. The conversation with Pod and Tyrion pushed to the forefront of his thoughts.

_Would she let me try to give her pleasure?_

Breaking the kiss, Jamie looked into her eyes. “Brienne. Do you trust me to try something?”

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she nodded. “Yes.”

Jaime stood in the tub and tried to shield his hardened cock from her; not wanting her to think he was expecting anything on his part. Extending his hand, Jaime helped her out of the tub as he walked her towards the bed.

Jaime encouraged Brienne to lay down before positioning himself over her. Placing a gentle kiss to her lips, he laced his fingers with hers and looked into her eyes. “I’ll stop if you get uncomfortable and I’ll keep my hand in yours so you know where it is.”

She nodded slightly and Jaime slowly lowered himself between her legs. His mind was abuzz with anxiety as he poured over the guidance from earlier. He wanted to get this right, but this was as foreign to him as it was Brienne. Lowering his mouth to her, Jaime heard Brienne gasp and he worried that he had immediately fucked it all up.

Her hand tightened around his, but she didn’t say anything to stop him. Jaime took that as a sign to keep going. He tried a few things that had been suggested, paying close attention to Brienne’s physical reactions. Jaime paused at points to ensure she was alright and when he only received affirmative reactions, he began to lose himself in her. Soon, Jaime found the movements that seemed to elicit the most pleasure from her. 

Bienne began to tense under his ministrations, but not in the same manner she did when reliving a painful memory. The way she tensed felt deeply rooted in want. Her free hand fisted into his hair as she bit back a loud moan. His name poured from her lips before she bit down on her forearm to keep her shouts contained.

Jaime brought Brienne to her peak and looked up to see her eyes screwed shut in pleasure. As she trembled under him, her eyes flew open in surprise. “What was that?” Her voice was breathless, and it brought a smile to his face.

A feeling of accomplishment spread through Jaime as he moved to lay beside her, his hand still clutching hers. “Did it feel good?”

Brienne looked to him as though he had gone mad. “Yes.”

With a wide smile and shrug, Jaime snuggled closer. “Then that’s all that matters.”

“I don’t know how to do that… for you…”

“I should hope not. I don’t have a cunt.”

Brienne huffed and hit his arm playfully. “I mean that I don’t know how to make you feel good like that. I can try.”

“No. I just wanted to make you feel good. I don’t need that.” Jaime pulled her closer and tugged the furs over their naked bodies. His cock screamed at him for release, but Jaime stuffed the thought down. Soon they would make their way downstairs for supper, but for now he just wanted to hold Brienne and let her feel safe in his arms.


	32. A Thorn In the Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genna and Olenna get shit done in King's Landing.

Olenna and Genna sat beside one another as they looked to the High Sparrow. The older man sat on a wooden stool in the middle of the room, rambling on about some religious nonsense that Genna hardly had time to listen to.

“Perhaps I’ve been unclear. This is not a question. This is a demand. Queen Margaery will be making no walk of atonement nor will her brother Loras.”

The High Sparrow chuckled and rubbed at his ancient knees before standing and moving towards Genna. Placing a warm hand on her shoulder, the older man looked to her with a fond expression upon his face.

“You’ve been more than clear, but I fear this is simply not an option. Mayhap it is I who has been unclear. I explained this to Lady Olenna previously. Her grandchildren swore sacred vows and lied before the Gods. The Father judges us all.”

Genna smirked at the man from her seated position. “And then the Mother overrides the Father’s bullshit with the right of it. As I said, there will be no walk.”

With a light chuckle and shake of his head, the High Sparrow looked between the two women. “I’m afraid you have no authority here. I do not bend to the crown. I bend to the Gods.”

Loud cries erupted from outside the small room that they found themselves in. Genna watched as the High Sparrow looked inquisitively towards the door; his brows knitted in confusion. Olenna stood from her seat with a small smile. “You once that me, ‘You are the few. We are the many.’ Mayhap you took count before our armies made camp outside the gates. I believe it is now _we_ who are the many.”

Genna stood beside Olenna and mirrored the Queen of Thorn’s smirk. “As I said, there will be no walk of atonement. You have met the Mother today. Your sparrows will meet the Warrior. Most will meet the Stranger.”

The High Sparrow moved quickly to the door and stepped outside to appraise the source of the screams. Olenna and Genna walked forward slowly; victorious smiles stretched across their faces.

To the High Sparrow, the scene was a chaotic battle amongst his sparrows. Men with the symbol of their faith on the foreheads fought on another. Then realization reached his eyes.

Days prior, Genna and Olenna gave the order. Their armies would begin killing groups of sparrows as they marched through the city, reigning terror. Their men would take the sparrows’ cloaks and paint the symbols of the Faith on their foreheads to better blend in. They cut their hair and kept a low profile as they mingled with the larger group of sparrows under the High Sparrow’s command.

By the time Olenna and Genna met with the High Sparrow, his remaining sparrows were few and easy to overcome. With the last of them killed off, the group of costumed soldiers surrounded the High Sparrow.

Genna looked at the older man and held his gaze as she spoke to the soldiers. “Take him to the cells of the Red Keep. He’ll meet the King’s justice soon enough.”

Making their way back to the Keep, Olenna and Genna spoke of the upcoming meeting with Dorne. Prince Doran Martell had arrived the day prior with a small escorting party of soldiers. Not enough for a war, but enough to show that Dorne was taking the crime seriously. They wanted to see the crown’s plan for justice before taking action.

Unsurprisingly, Prince Doran was distraught and enraged over the loss of his son, but he was willing to speak with the women before acting. Oberyn was still too unwell to travel from the Twins, but Genna extended an invitation for Prince Doran to stay in the capital for as long as necessary to receive Oberyn and return him home to fully heal.

As they made their way up towards the Keep, Genna appraised the state of Loras and Margaery. They had been held hostage by the sparrows for some time but looked generally unharmed despite the emotional trauma inflicted on them. The sight made Genna’s mind wander to Brienne.

 _Gods, I hope the girl is alright. Her captives were likely not as kind_. Margaery must have seen the worry writ on Genna’s face. “Lady Genna, I thank you for the aid. Do you worry after Dorne? Surely our forces and Ser Jaime’s will hold them off.”

“No, no. Prince Doran is a reasonable man and I worry little for repercussions from Dorne so long as Cersei pays properly for her crimes. I worry for my goodniece.”

“Lady Sansa?”

Genna huffed a laugh and shook her head. “No, Brienne. Jaime’s wife.”

A slight look of surprise pulled at Margaery’s facial features. “I had heard they were betrothed, but I just assumed it a means to save her. Are they… a love match?”

Olenna snorted and shook her head. “Come now girl, are you not my granddaughter!? How could you not see it when they were together briefly in the capital.” With a huff of laughter, Olenna continued. “You should have seen the look on Jaime’s face when Cersei confronted Brienne at your wedding to Joffrey. The lad nearly shit himself.”

Genna guffawed at the words and looked out the carriage window. “You can’t imagine what I endured with the insufferable dolts at the Rock. Pining after each other endlessly. Embarrassing really.”

Loras’s face scrunched in distaste, but he remained silent. For her part, Margaery only smiled widely. “I was always fond of Lady Brienne. She has a kind soul with not an ounce of dishonestly in her. Why do you worry for her though? Is she not with Ser Jaime?”

With a longsuffering sigh, Genna updated Margaery on everything she and Loras had missed while in custody of the High Sparrow. Even Loras showed a degree of empathy for Brienne despite his obvious dislike for her. All the women in the carriage knew of Loras’ and Brienne’s shared affection for the youngest Baratheon, but no one made mention of it.

The carriage arrived at the Keep and Tommen stood to welcome them. His face was a sea of emotions ranging from relief to joy. Genna was no fool. She read Margaery’s affections for Tommen as false.

Margaery was a power-hungry woman, but unlike Cersei, she did not seem in the business of hurting innocents. It was important that Genna kept Olenna close as she was the obvious source of Margaery’s actions; be them good or bad.

Moving into the keep, Genna and Olenna let the young king and queen reunite as they made their way to the small council chambers to treat with Prince Doran. Genna muttered as they moved swiftly through the hall. “Gods let this day end. I need a bath followed by some strong wine.”

Olenna hummed at her side. “I would prefer both at the same.”

Pushing open the door to the small council chamber, Genna’s eyes landed on Prince Doran sitting stoically in his wheelchair. Four of his guards stood at attention around him looking straight ahead at the wall.

_Four guards for two old ladies. Either they expected someone else or they heard the High Sparrow screaming his way towards the cells._

“Prince Doran, I trust the accommodations suited you last night.” Genna inclined her head at the man who offered a small smile and bow of the head.

“Yes, thank you. The weather is a bit cooler here, but I enjoyed the sea breeze nonetheless.” The Dornish prince’s eyes wandered suspiciously to Lady Olenna. Dorne and the Reach had never enjoyed a healthy relationship and Genna fretted over whether her decision to include Olenna would backfire.

“Unlike your brother, I’m pleased you treat with words rather than swords. As you can see, neither the West nor the Reach have sent their best fighters.”

Doran huffed a small laugh and raised a challenging brow to Genna. “No, they’ve merely sent their best strategists. Might I ask, where are the king and queen?”

Olenna spoke from Genna’s side. “As you can imagine, my granddaughter has been through quite an ordeal. She and her brother only just returned to the Keep moments earlier. She has taken to her chambers with King Tommen to recover.”

“So I’ve heard. I do hope our meeting goes better for me than the High Sparrow’s attempts to treat with you. I only accepted this invitation to meet with you before moving to a more drastic measure. I want to know how Cersei will be punished for her role in this.”

Genna sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “My niece is guilty of much, but of killing your son and Ellaria, she is innocent. Rest assured, she will be punished for her other crimes.”

Doran laughed sarcastically. “Yes, I’m certain that Cersei had _nothing_ to do with the position my son, my brother, and my brother’s lover found themselves in.”

“Might I remind you, Prince Doran, that my brother and Lady Olenna’s son were also victims of Littlefinger’s and the Bolton’s scheme. We have all lost kin from this attack. I concede that my niece’s efforts with your brother saw him present on the Gold Road for the attack, but she hardly _caused_ the attack. Even she lacks that kind of foresight.”

Doran scratched his chin in consideration of Genna’s words. Meeting her gaze, he spoke sternly. “Your brother understood the importance of Dorne’s alliance to the crown. My brother was on the small council and my son was betrothed to Lady Myrcella who I hear survived the attack. I would see my brother placed back on the small council at this return. As my only heir has been taken from me, I want to see my brother’s daughters legitimized in the eyes the crown. All eight of them. His eldest, Obara, will be my heir after Oberyn should my brother pass before me. I would see a match made for her to unify our houses. Perhaps with Loras.”

Olenna raised a brow at his request. “You wish for Obara to wed Loras?”

Prince Doran shrugged. “I hear Lady Genna’s nephews are spoken for… unless they are displeased with their wives.” Doran cast an inquisitive look at Genna who snorted.

“You would have better luck convincing my nephews to cut off their own cocks than to take new wives. They are more than content. I do however have a nephew who may make a fine match for one of your nieces.”

Doran nodded in agreement with Genna before looking to Olenna. “In Dorne, our people are accepting to paramours and _other_ preferences. I think, Lady Olenna, you might find Dorne more agreeable to Loras as it has been to Obara. I think they could find much agreement in certain arrangements of their marriage.”

Olenna snorted at the implication but would do little more than hum and nod. Looking to Genna, the Queen of Thorns voiced her thoughts.

“I do believe we have agreeable terms between our houses.” The older women shared a smile and nod. Genna looked back to Doran with a satisfied smirk. “We’ll have King Tommen legitimize your nieces on the morrow and send word to the Citadel of their elevated station in the kingdoms. We will announce the matches between our houses as well. My nephew will take some time to arrive from the West, but we could see Loras and Obara wed off more immediately if she is in the city with you.”

A please smile flitted across Prince Doran’s face. “I may have brought a small army, but the Sand Snakes are among them. Like you ladies, they are quite formidable. I don’t need thousands of men. I need eight nieces with spears in hand to ensure my safety.”

Olenna hummed in amusement at Genna’s side. “I’ll inform Loras. We can marry them off in a few days after they’ve had time to speak on their _arrangements_.”

Genna barked to one of the attendants standing in the corner. “You there, get us some damn wine. Make it Dornish. I find they have the best vintages.”

Days later Genna made her way through the Keep. The castle was unusually quiet as the King and Queen, the Tyrells, and the Dornish contingent had set off for the Sept. Tommen and Margaery had invited the forces of the Reach, the West, and Dorne into the city gates to cram into the Sept and the surrounding area to celebrate the unity of their kingdoms.

They would offer words of harmony to their people to diminish any lingering hostility between their kingdoms. Then they would announce the betrothal of Daven Lannister to Nymeria Martell, formally Nymeria Sand. The wedding of Loras Tyrell and Obara Martell, formally Obara Sand, would be a public celebration that day.

The hour grew late and Genna was delayed in her arrival to the Sept. Olenna and Prince Doran had gone ahead without her to accompany their kin to the Sept. The city guard and their armies would guard Tommen and Margaery at the steps of the Sept before the official ceremony moved inside.

Genna moved quickly through the Keep with Ser Addam and several of their top generals. “We need to hurry up and get down there. Gods, I lost track of time in writing to the boys of today’s events!”

They rushed down the castle steps to the awaiting horses and carriage. “Seven hells, the bells are tolling for the ceremony to begin! Addam, how fast can your men get us there?”

Addam chuckled and shrugged. “Well my lady, as you insist on the carriage, it will take longer than horseback.”

Genna snorted at the words. _I will not sit astride some smelly beast._ “Very well. I suppose I’ll make a fashionable entrance once the wedding has begun.”

Stepping into the carriage, Genna pushed open the windows and inhaled in the fresh air. The crowd was so large near the Sept that the sound carried all the way to Aegon’s Hill at the Red Keep. Mere moments after they set out, all of that changed.

A massive explosion was heard, and the city streets shook. The horses whinnied and stumbled. Genna’s carriage began to shake from the force and the horses faltered in fear. Addam and the men shouted orders as screams from the city below filled the sky.

Genna stumbled out from the carriage and saw a massive plume of green smoke above the Sept. _Wildfire_.


	33. TBTWP

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just that... TBTWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title goes without saying - smut ahead.

Word arrived from Genna of the negotiated peace with Dorne and the handling of the High Sparrow. The only remaining threat to be dealt with was Cersei, but with Tommen and Margaery secure, Genna indicated confidence that they could handle her.

Everyone at Winterfell had a collective sigh of relief at the missive. Jaime never felt better. He had the love of his life at his side, Myrcella and Tommen were safe, and Cersei was contained _._

 _Finally. We can have peace in the kingdoms._ _Who knows, the North may even tolerate a little crimson to brighten the dreary castle_.

Sansa called for a feast to celebrate the blooming peace across Westeros and her growing pack now that Jon and Rickon were home. Jaime prayed to the Seven that Bran and Arya were alive somewhere. He hoped for the chance to apologize to Bran someday. To find a way to make good on what he had done to the boy.

The joy at the feast was palpable. Jaime crowded into the head table with Brienne to his left and Bronn to his right. Pod sat beside Bronn as Tyrion, Sansa, Rickon, and Jon sat across from them. The wine was flowing, and all troubles were cast aside.

Bronn and Pod found their way off to the village to, as Bronn put it, _visit_ the locals. Rickon retired to his room and Jon left the table to commiserate with the Wildlings. The castle staff got a fire going to warm the space as most had long cleared out from the hall.

Eventually, only Jaime, Brienne, Tyrion, and Sansa remained. It reminded Jaime of their time at the Rock, enjoying a relaxed evening and, perhaps, overindulging on wine. “A game! Lannisters vs Lannisters” Tyrion’s voice was filled with a dangerous mixture of mirth and mischief.

Jaime chuckled and looked to his younger brother. “You’ll need to be more specific, Tyrion. We’re all Lannisters.”

“I mean couple vs couple.”

Sansa snorted. “So Tarth vs Stark. Lets be honest, we might have taken the Lannister name, but Brienne and I run our marriages.”

Brienne chuckled into her cup as a slight blush kissed her cheeks on account of the wine. Jaime couldn’t help but stare at her. She looked beautiful as she smiled easily, and the firelight framed her features.

“…If my brother there could stop staring at his wife for a moment though…” Tyrion stared at Jaime as he spoke, awaiting his response. “Jaime…”

So lost in Brienne was Jaime that he hardly noticed his brother and Sansa staring at him. It wasn’t until Brienne turned to him that he blinked back to consciousness. “What?”

“Jaime, did you even hear me? The rules.” As Tyrion spoke, everyone looked to Jaime expectantly.

“Rules? Of what?”

“Oh, Gods. He’s hopeless.” Sansa groaned from across the table as she smirked towards Tyrion.

Amassing as much patience as possible, Tyrion again gave the instructions that Jaime tuned out. “We will play in pairs as it wouldn’t be fair to play against our wives since they know so much about us, and us about them. Sansa and I will guess something about both of you. If we get it correct, you drink. If we get it wrong, we drink.”

 _Why can’t I just drink in peace and stare at my wife?_ “What is the point of this?”

“It’s just for fun, Jaime. Surely you understand the concept?” Tyrion spoke sarcastically from Sana’s side as Jaime watched the young wolf grab his forearm warmly. Assessing his goodsister, Jaime could see that she was feeling her wine, but well under control.

With a slight shrug, Jaime agreed and so they began. Sansa and Tyrion conferred for a moment before beginning.

Tyrion pointed accusingly to Jaime and smiled. “The first time your lips touched Brienne was _after_ you wed.”

 _Oh gods. This is to be one of those games_. Jaime raised a brow at Brienne; a small smirk tugged at his lips. His mind wandered back to the night he kissed her bear scars at the Rock, and he knew that she recalled the same. Looking back to Tyrion, Jaime smiled widely. “Drink.”

Both Tyrion’s and Sansa’s eyes went wide at his response. “When!?” Sansa looked between Jaime and Brienne.

“Lady Sansa, that is not the game. I never kiss and tell.” Jaime smirked as Brienne chuckled at his side.

Leaning into Brienne’s ear, Jaime gave her the statement that he thought to give the other couple. Brienne shrugged an approval before he spoke. “You’ve discussed using the Stark name now that you will rule the North.”

An amused smile tugged at the couple’s lips as both lifted their wine cup to take a sip. _Very strategic. Very Sansa and Tyrion_.

Sansa gave the next question which was directed at them both. “You have not yet discussed trying to have children.”

They took a sip of wine and Brienne was quick to fire a similar question back. “You both _have_ discussed children.”

With an approving nod at her guess, both Tyrion and Sansa took a drink. _What!? They have? When?_ Jaime’s confusion must have shown, because both Sansa and Tyrion laughed at his facial expression.

A mischievous look tugged at Tyrion’s lips and Jaime felt a general sense of unease for where the next comment might go. Sansa looked scandalized when Tyrion whispered into her ear.

“ _Before_ we left King’s Landing to find Brienne and Sansa you stroked your cock to the thought of Brienne.”

To his left, Brienne choked on her wine as Jaime felt his face flame in embarrassment. _This game was a horrible idea._

Jaime glared at Tyrion from across the table; silently imploring him to keep the game clean. He slowly raised his wine cup to his lips as Brienne gasped and kicked his shin. “Jaime!”

“Alright you want to play dirty, little brother? You’ve stroked your cock while watching your wife sleep.” Now it was Sansa’s turn to cover her mouth in horror. Unlike his own reaction, Tyrion only chuckled and drank happily.

“Gods Tyrion! That is so inappropriate.” Sansa smacked his arm as he continued laughing.

“What? I was feeling inspired.”

Brienne squirmed in her seat and Jaime could tell that she was getting uncomfortable with the direction the game was headed. Feeling a need to protect her from Tyrion’s crassness, Jaime stood from the table and gave a mock bow to his brother. “Forgive me _Lord Stark_ , but I’ve had enough information to give me nightmares for moons to come. I’m quite tired now.”

Extending his arm to Brienne, Jaime smiled warmly. “My lady, can you help an old lion find his way back to our room? I’m worried that I’ll stumble into the wrong one and land on some filthy sheets that my brother has soiled.”

Brienne groaned in distaste and stood to leave. As they wandered the halls, they japed along the way. “I cannot believe you and your brother. So disgusting.”

“What? Like Tyrion, I suppose I felt _inspired_.” Jaime chuckled as Brienne’s flushed face in response.

Brienne scoffed and looked down the hallway. “Well you must have a very active imagination because there was nothing remotely enticing to go on from our time together prior to my departing the capital.”

“I seem to recall a rather enticing bath.”

“What!? You were half dead with infection and fever.”

“I was fevered. Not blind.” Jaime again chuckled at her horrified look.

As they moved into their room, Jaime watched as Brienne slowly stripped for bed. She had been keeping the fire stoked to unbearable levels in their room.

At first Jaime thought to complain, but because the temperature was so high in the, it ensured Brienne slept in nothing more than her smallclothes. Any thought of protest on Jaime’s part was overridden by the sight of Brienne’s exposed skin.

Jaime took off his own clothing and false hand before they climbed into bed. As they settled in, Jaime couldn’t help but continue to needle Brienne. “Want to know how I guessed what Tyrion had done?”

Brienne looked to him and shook her head. “I am truly afraid of the things you and your brother discuss.”

_Oh, if you only knew. Pod will never be the same again._

Jaime chuckled and japed. “I merely accused him of what I do.” In truth, Jaime had not done that, but her reaction made the lie worth it.

Brienne’s jaw went slack before she repeatedly swatted at his arm. “Jaime! Truly what is wrong with you!?”

He couldn’t stop laughing the more that she assaulted him. “I’m japing! I’m japing! Gods, stop.” Pushing back in jest, Jaime and Brienne began to wrestle for control. _A bit unfair. I only have one hand._

Surprising Brienne, Jaime moved quickly to pin her down with his bodyweight as he kept laughing. She squirmed under his body as he pulled back his head to look at her face. “I so enjoy when you’re angry. Just like the bath. See there it is again. So much to leverage for lonely nights.”

While he only meant to needle her, there was actually truth in the statement. He spent quite a few nights thinking about her in the bath as she stood before him in righteous indignation.

Brienne tried to maintain an unamused face, but she started laughing again and Jaime felt his heart flutter. He would never tire of watching her smile and hearing her laugh. Without thinking, he pressed his lips to hers passionately.

After the initial shock wore off, Brienne’s lips softened under his and they began to lose themselves in each other. Their kissing became more passionate and needy. Their breathing began to labor and the temperature in the room increased substantially.

Jaime felt himself harden quickly against Brienne’s core and on instinct, he began to move rhythmically against her body. He felt Brienne’s hands lower from his face, to his shoulders, and then his lower back. With her palms flat against his back, she held him to her as he continued to press against her through their smallclothes.

The pressure of their lower bodies moving together felt incredible and Jaime worried that he might spill if they didn’t stop. Before he could slow the pace, Brienne’s right hand moved between them and she slipped her hand into this smallclothes, grabbing his cock.

Jaime hissed at the contact. She had never touched him like that before and it felt incredible. Brienne made some exploratory strokes and Jaime groaned deeply into her mouth. “Fuck! Gods, Brienne.” Jaime began to thrust in and out of her hand in response. It wasn’t long before Brienne’s free hand pushed his smallclothes down that Jaime realized he had been doing the same to hers as he balanced on his maimed arm.

Brienne’s hips tilted up as she parted her legs further. With his cock nudging at her entrance wantonly, Jaime’s body tensed in anticipation. Meeting Brienne’s eyes, Jaime looked for any sign of uncertainty. “We don’t have to… I can use my mouth if you…”

Before he could finish, Brienne pulled Jaime’s face to hers and pressed her lips firm against his. Her hand left his cock and returned to his lower back as Jaime slowly pushed into her. Taking pause to ensure she was alright, Jaime noted the slight grimace as he broke past her maidenhead.

“Brienne? Does it hurt too much?”

She shook her head in denial but shifted under him as though trying to find a more comfortable position. When she settled, Jaime pushed further until he was completely sheathed in her. An intense euphoria washed over Jaime. Swallowing deeply, he met Brienne’s eyes.

“I love you, Brienne.”

Brienne’s returning smile was warm enough to melt the Wall itself. “I love you, Jaime.”

Lower his mouth to her neck, Jaime nipped and kissed her soft skin. He began to move within her and establish a rhythm. As though unlocking an instinct long suppressed, Brienne’s hips began to raise and meet his thrusts as they moaned deeply with each movement.

Their breathing grew shallow and beads of sweat dotted their foreheads. Jaime braced his arms at each side of her head as he pulled his upper body back to angle deeper with each thrust. The only sound growing louder than their groans of pleasure was the force of the headboard slamming into the wall.

Jaime desperately tried to hold back his own release until Brienne fell over the edge. As he had observed Brienne do when his mouth was on her cunt, she squeezed her eyes shut when she was close to release. Jaime grabbed the back of headboard with his left hand for leverage and thrust harder into her.

“Gods! Jaime!” Her moans echoed off the walls of the room and mingled with his own cries of pleasure. “Fuck! Brienne, you’re so tight.”

As Brienne’s walls tightened and trembled around his cock, Jaime couldn’t hold back his own release any longer. He spilled deep within her; her name a cry on his lips.

Jaime collapsed on top of Brienne as they both laid silently; their heartbeats slowing and their breathing steadying.

“That was much better than your mouth.”

Jaime couldn’t help but laugh at Brienne’s words. Pulling back to look at her face, Jaime was in awe of what he saw. She had a natural glow to her face. A satiated look about her that was both carnal and beautiful. _Gods, she is breathtaking_.

“That was much better than my fantasies.” Jaime teased which provoked another swat to his arm. Brienne’s face then became very serious as she met his eyes. “How soon can we do that again?”

Her question was so honest and naïve that Jaime again found himself chuckling. He bit his lip and shook his head as a smile stretched across his face. “Gods, woman. Give me a moment. I’m not as young as I once was.”

Brienne’s reply was as practical and diligent as ever. “Well then you’ll just need to train at it.” 

They came together twice more that night before finding sleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Jaime awoke to Brienne’s eyes on him. An amused smirk tugged at his lips as she flushed slightly. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t pulling a Tyrion.”

“I kind of wish you were. I would have joined in.”

Brienne whimpered slightly and looked to the ceiling. “Gods, no. I don’t think I can walk let alone do any of that right now. It _hurts_.”

Jaime pulled her closer and kissed her lips before pressing his forehead to hers. “Need me to kiss it better?”

Brienne snorted and shook her head. “You’re insufferable.”

“Well you seemed to find me tolerable enough last night.” Jaime sat up and yawned before stretching. “I’m hungry. You’re insatiable and nearly killed me off. I need food.”

Brienne sat up beside him looked for her smallclothes. “I’m insatiable? At one point I awoke last night to your mouth on my cunt.”

With a huff of laughter, Jaime stood from the bed and retrieved his smallclothes and breeches. As he walked back towards the bed, his eyes went wide at the sight of the wall. “Oh fuck. We broke the wall.”

“What!?” Brienne spun around and gasped at the sight.

Moving quickly to the wall, Jaime poked his finger into one of several cavities that the slamming of the headboard likely caused. Multiple cracks ran horizontal to and through the cavities.

“Wench! What did you do!?”

“What did I do! I wasn’t the one thrusting away!”

Jaime looked to her with an amused smile on this face. “You were provoking me with your wanton behavior.”

“Me!?

“You broke the castle.”

Brienne huffed at his words and continued getting dressed. “I’m going to break my fast and you’re going to figure out how to patch that up.”

The pair made their way to the great hall; stomachs rumbling the entire way. Upon entering the hall, they saw their small group at the head table already well into their meals. They approached the group and took their seats. Mere moments after joining, Jaime looked up when he realized that all conversation had ceased.

Uncertain what was going on, Jaime smiled cautiously. “Good morning.”

Tyrion smirked widely at his brother. “Yes, good morning to the both of you. I didn’t think that we would see either of you this morning.”

Bronn chuckled and raised a mocking brow. “Or that ya wife could make the walk.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed in confusion and he looked to Brienne who was equally perplexed.

Sansa smiled teasingly. “You know, Winterfell is one of the older castles in Westeros. It comes with its advantages and disadvantages of course. One disadvantage is that it’s known to be a bit drafty. The walls are just so _thin_.”

Jaime snorted and glanced to Brienne. “Yes, they are.” _Quite thin. Wait until you see how we’ve nearly converted two rooms into one_.

It was Pod who spoke next. His face was pale, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept all night. “The village was quite full last night, so we returned early. I think, my lord, that our rooms share a wall. Most likely the headboards as well.”

Brienne’s face flushed and her eyes went wide. Jaime tried and failed to bite back a laugh. “Oh. Sorry about that, Pod. There was a spider that needed killing.”

Pod muttered more to himself than the rest of the table. “Must have been a spider colony.”


	34. A New Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the sept explosion (takes place two days before the feast in Winterfell from the prior chapter)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chronologically, this chapter would fall right after Genna witnessed the sept explode, but I wanted to switch to Winterfell to break the King's Landing chapters.

_Two days before the feast at Winterfell..._

Cersei watched the city smolder from her balcony; an amused smile on her face and glass of wine in hand. _Such a pity. They were all so happy_.

A knock came at the door and Cersei turned to see Qyburn enter. “Your Grace.” The disgraced maester bowed and walked towards her slowly. “Ah, you have visual confirmation of the completed orders. I regret, your Grace, that the men could not convince Tommen to return to the Keep before he and Margaery entered the Sept.”

With a hum of indifference, Cersei turned back to the city and took another sip of her wine. “He made his decision when he chose the Tyrell whore.” _Pity he was just as weak as his father_.

Cersei had loved her children fiercely at a time, but as they grew, they disappointed her more and more. _Only Joffrey had potential. Tommen and Myrcella were sweet children. Loving and kind as their father was. Weak._

Cersei had raged internally at Tommen’s negligence in seeing her rescued from the High Sparrow. His indifference when she returned to the Keep and only Genna was there to greet her. From all accounts in Dorne, Myrcella fancied herself in love with Trystane. The girl seemed uninterested in returning home, despite Cersei’s efforts with Oberyn to see it happen.

“Also, your Grace, everyone was where they were intended to be apart from your aunt. She was delayed in getting to the Sept and still lives.”

 _Seven hells. That miserable cunt. No matter, Jaime and Tyrion will come for her. That’s what they do. They rush in to save the weak members of the pride_.

“See to her capture. I think we could have some fun with my aunt before my brothers charge in blindly. Send some of the men down to the Sept to look for more… recruits.”

Cersei’s mind wandered back to the day she returned to the Keep from the custody of the High Sparrow. When Genna gave the guards outside the room their orders, Qyburn slipped her a note from inside her chambers. They had discussed such a plan should her preferred plan fail. It was time to see their backup plan put into action.

Qyburn was an odd man, but Cersei knew that he would prove useful. He had a penchant for human experimentation that unnerved Cersei. The way he looked at the sick and dying was enough to make anyone squirm. The man was _talented_ however in his art.

The maester’s note was simple. It read _, ‘The potion has been tested and verified. I will begin work tonight.’_

The former maester had invented a potion that altered the castle guards; made them stronger and simple. Qyburn began by giving the elixir to the guards stationed at her door. It was a sweet potion and the guards quite enjoyed when the old man came by offering refreshment at every new shift.

They thought Qyburn a kind man and lowly maester looking to stay in the good graces of the crown. Still, Qyburn was unable to enter Cersei’s room under order of the crown. It was unnecessary regardless.

By Qyburn’s calculation, it would take three doses to render the men simple. They would still respond to basic commands, but they were as communicative as Ser Ilyn had been. When Genna came by and barked at them, they merely nodded dumbly after the first dose or two.

Once the final dose was administered, Qyburn was able to gain control of their simple minds. Their strength was uncanny. In one demonstration earlier that day, one of the guards squeezed a steel sword until it was as misshapen as a sword adorning the Iron Throne. The _reformed_ guard had complete disregard for his own hand, which was nearly sliced off in the process.

They were controlled by a scent that Qyburn created alongside the elixir. It was a sweet-smelling potion that would be applied like a perfume. To the average man, it was little more than a floral scent, not uncommon among noble women of court. To these creatures, it was how they identified leadership.

Qyburn had been able to convert roughly one dozen of the men to these zombie-like creatures. In time, Cersei would have an entire army of them. She would be untouchable. It would take time to amass that many men however and first, Cersei would call in additional men from across the Narrow Sea. Sellswords from the Golden Company.

Moving to the nightstand in her room, Cersei picked up the bottle containing the potion and dotted it to her wrists and neck. She moved beside Qyburn into the hallway and made her way down towards the throne room.

The castle was nearly devoid of life. Most everyone had left to attend the wedding of Loras and the newly named Martell girl. Those who remained behind had fled the castle to investigate the source of the explosion. Cersei walked towards the throne room, her skirt dragging slightly across the stone floor. _Finally. I have my crown and no one to stand in my way._

Entering the massive room, Cersei’s eyes locked on the Iron Throne. _It’s mine._

The room was empty save for her and Qyburn. She moved to the steps leading towards the throne and smiled to herself. Taking a seat, she allowed her body to sink into the cool iron. Her arms stretched out on the armrests and a satisfied tremor passed through her body.

“Bring me my aunt before she goes to the cell. I wish to have a chat.”

Not long after, her new guards dragged Genna into the throne room. Blood dotted her skirts, likely from the Lannister soldiers escorting her to the Sept, and Cersei smiled at the sight. “Aunt. How good of you to be the first to bend the knee to your new queen.”

Genna scoffed. “You’re no queen. You forget yourself girl. You are not next in line for the throne.”

Cersei raised a challenging brow and looked around. “Do you see any other _Baratheons_ here? They are dead. I am all that remains.”

“Myrcella lives. The princess is now queen. A fine ruler she will make despite spilling from your womb.”

 _Myrcella. The last of them. The last of Jaime’s pathetic seed_.

“She is a child and unfit to rule. As far as Westeros knows, she is no more likely to draw breath than her brothers. I don’t see her here. Do you? How do you even know that she lives? I just blew up the last of the Martells. I am no fool. She and Trystane would have been among them.”

Genna smiled. “I know where she is. She is somewhere safe. Somewhere that you can’t touch her. The girl is very much alive. Thank the Gods she is entirely her father and not you.”

“And that is why she isn’t fit to rule. Love makes you weak and Jaime is the weakest among us. I’m not surprised that his seed destroyed the potential for greatness of anything growing in my womb. I’ll be untouchable. An army of sellswords from across the Narrow Sea will soon join the ranks of the new army being amassed here. No mortal man could touch what we are building. These new soldiers are not swayed by such foolish motivations as love. I’ll see to it that Jaime joins his other useless children in the seven hells after he watches me torture and kill his cow of a wife.”

Genna’s eyes narrowed and she straightened at the words. “You’re just like your father. You think love a weakness. It is the greatest motivator there is. Your father had love once and it drove him to build our house strong and powerful. Then he lost his love and our family grew weak. Fueled by false ambitions that tore it apart. A pride at war. Just as your father did, you think Jaime weak because of his immense capacity to love. Your father meant to manipulate him with it. It is love in fact that gives Jaime strength. Jaime has more love to give and subsequently strength to fight an entire army of sellswords. It will be your downfall. I don’t envy your position. Jaime will end you without second thought if you threaten his wife. The _only_ woman he has every truly loved.”

Standing from the throne, Cersei walked down the steps. Her eyes were locked on Genna as she approached the older woman. Cersei tried to control the rage that coursed through her. She didn’t want her aunt to see that the words had evoked a reaction from her.

_That cow is not his love. I am his other half. He can’t replace me with anyone; let alone that beast._

Sneering at the older woman, Cersei raised a hand and slapped Genna across the face with everything she had in her. When Genna’s head slowly turned back to meet Cersei’s eyes, a snide smile pulled at her lips.

“Do with me what you will, girl. What matters is that the Lannister name will live on through your brothers and their wives. You aren’t half the woman that Brienne or Sansa are. Our pride will grow stronger without you in it. Your brothers will see to your demise. Of that, I am certain.”

With narrowed eyes and clenched teeth, Cersei spat at the guards. “Take her to the black cells. I want her alive for when my brothers arrive. They will watch their precious aunt die before I take their wives from them.”

Cersei watched as the guards dragged Genna off to the cells. The presence of Qyburn nearing her side caught Cersei’s attention. “Your Grace, the High Sparrow is in the cells below the keep. What would you have us do with him?”

“Good. I would like to pay him a visit. Bring your equipment. I think he would make the perfect volunteer for your live experiments.”

A small smile played at Qyburns’ lips. “Yes, your Grace.” The man scurried off and Cersei was left standing in her throne room alone. It was time to send a missive to the kingdoms, calling for them to bend the knee to their new queen. She would have her coronation in a few days.

Making her way to her room, Cersei considered what she would do once she had her hands on the great cow and the little dove. She would make their husbands watch as Qyburn took them apart, piece by piece.

Moving into the room, Cersei sat down to write her missives. She would have word sent to the Citadel and the great houses immediately. Qyburn would see to it that those missives were sent within the next day or two, but Cersei wanted to be the one to write the letters to her brothers and their wives. The missive to her brothers would need to be sent out a few days later so that Cersei had time to ensure defense was secured. She knew they would charge in immediately. 

Pulling out a blank parchment, Cersei looked to the ceiling in contemplation. A vicious smile spread across her face. Grabbing a quill, she crafted her letter.

To my traitor brothers and their whores,

I regret to inform you of the most tragic series of events in the capital. Our beloved King Tommen and his wife have perished along with the armies of Dorne, the Reach, and the West during a planned wedding of Loras Tyrell to Obara Martell.

Sadly, some caches of wildfire caught below the Sept. You’ll be most pleased to hear that I was tucked safely away and managed to avoid the tragedy as I was in holding at the Keep, awaiting my trial.

I have no option but to place blame on the only surviving member of the council, Genna Frey. Such a shame. I know how much you both enjoy the woman. She will face a public execution for her negligence; unless of course either of you wish to champion her?

Oh, and before I forget, your wives are wanted for treason. Both are suspects in the death of King Joffrey and I aim to see swift action taken. Word will be sent to the kingdoms of the crime they stand accused of. Rest assured that the crown will not sit idle until they are in custody. For the death of my son, I aim to see them taken apart, piece by piece.

I am not a cruel woman of course, so I will allow your presence at their methodical execution as they slowly slip away to meet the Stranger. I’m going to have Qyburn practice on the High Sparrow who sits in our cells, thanks to your beloved aunt and the Queen of Thorns.

Make haste for the capital. I would love to host a family reunion in time for Genna’s punishment. Please, bring your whores and save the other houses’ the trouble of having to track them down.

Yours,

Queen Cersei Lannister


	35. Dark Wings, Dark Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word arrives from the capital and a plan is hatched.

Brienne awoke in Jaime’s arms, naked as her nameday. His fingers were running through her hair as he hummed a tune that she could easily make out. _Really? The Bear and the Maiden Fair. Of all the bloody songs._

Lifting her head to meet Jaime’s eyes, Brienne’s face conveyed her displeasure at the song choice.

“What?” His eyes danced playfully as Brienne groaned and rolled over, pulling the furs over her head.

Jaime chuckled and pressed his chest to her back as he leaned over to try and see her face. “Well that’s not helping. Now you look like the bear under all these furs. I preferred you as the maiden.”

Brienne snorted and threw the furs off. Before she could protest, Jaime’s lips found hers. Any protest died as his tongue darted into her mouth. A contented sigh bubbled in her throat. _Insufferable man_.

Before things progressed, a knock came at the door and Jaime groaned in protest. “We’re not here. Go away.”

Tyrion’s voice drifted from the other side of the wooden door. “Please tell me you’re decent. I need to come in.”

“Perfectly decent.” Jaime grinned widely as he shouted back to Tyrion.

“What!? No! Tyrion, we’re not!”

It was too late as the younger Lannister was already pushing the door open. In an effort to grab the furs and cover herself, Brienne fell off the bed with a thud. Jaime guffawed and sat there naked as his nameday.

“Gods, Jaime! You are not decent!” Tyrion averted his eyes and groaned in irritation.

“What’s wrong? I don’t understand.” Jaime feigned ignorance as he looked to Brienne. She peered over the edge of the bed from the floor with the furs pulled tightly to her chest.

Tyrion sighed and shook his head. “Put some damn clothes on.”

“The amount of times I’ve had to drag you from a brothel, and you can’t handle one sighting of my glorious ass.”

Brienne groaned from the floor as she threw Jaime’s smallclothes and breeches to him. Her own smallclothes and breeches were nearby, and she moved to grab the garments. Brienne’s eyes scanned the room for her tunic.

_Seven hells. Where did Jaime toss it last night?_

Brienne’s mind wandered back to the night prior. They had stumbled through the door; lips locked in passion. Jaime had pressed her back against the door and thrown off her tunic hastily before removing her breeches and smallclothes. Unlike the tunic that was dropped to the floor, her smallclothes and tunic were flung across the room to where she found them moments earlier.

_The door. Gods damnit, Jaime._

Peering around the bed, Brienne saw her discarded tunic on the floor by Tyrion’s feet.

With an imploring look to Jaime, he followed her eyes and laughed. Jaime stood from the bed in nothing but his smallclothes and unlaced breeches; his cock still hard and wanting.

Picking up the tunic, Jaime walked it back to Brienne before sitting on the edge of the bed. “So, what is so important that you’ve seen fit to burst into our room before the sun comes up?”

Tyrion glanced to ensure they were fully clothed before turning to face them. In the process, his eyes caught sight of the wall and he noted the relocation of the bed to the middle of the room.

“What have you two done!?”

Jaime snickered and looked to Brienne. “Brienne did it. Gods, Tryion. She’s an animal. Like a _bear_.”

Brienne punched his arm as her face flushed with embarrassment. “No, your brother did that. We were going to fix it. I swear.”

With a look of awe, Tyrion moved to the wall. “I… I don’t know if I’m impressed or alarmed. Both?”

Shaking his head slightly to collect himself, Tyrion looked back to Jaime and his face fell. “A raven arrived this morning from the capital. I’ll be in the hall with Sansa. I think you might want some privacy for this.”

Tyrion handed the missive to Jaime and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”

Brienne felt her heart drop as she looked to Jaime. _Gods. Don’t let it be Tommen or Genna_.

She watched as Jaime tried to read the missive; his brows furrowed in frustration. Brienne noticed how he seemed to struggle with his letters the most when stressed. Surely, Tyrion’s words had set him on edge. “Let me to read it. It does no good when you’re worried.”

Jaime offered a quiet nod and handed Brienne the missive. Reading the letter aloud, Brienne felt a lump form in her throat as she glanced to Jaime. A mix of anger and sorrow filled his features.

When she reached the end of the letter, she held Jaime close and soothed him as he screamed into her shoulder.

“I’m very sorry about Tommen. He seemed such a sweet boy. We’ll get Genna back.” At her words, Jaime pulled back and looked to her frantically.

“No! Brienne, you must stay here. Keep yourself and Sansa safe. I’ll head south and deal with my cunt of a sister. I swear to the Seven, she will meet the Stranger by the time I’m done with her.” Brienne felt Jaime’s body shake with rage under her fingertips.

“I won’t let you go alone. I’m coming with you.”

They argued the topic for some time before moving to the hall. As promised, Tyrion sat solemnly with Sansa at his side. They spoke for some time on how best to approach the situation. As usual, Tyrion and Sansa had the right of it.

“We can’t just rush in foolishly. My sister will expect that. Her words are meant to instigate and incite blind rage. We’ll send word to Oberyn and the rest of Dorne. Surely, they will seek revenge for the destruction of their House. From Genna’s missive it doesn’t sound as though they sent all of their army. I imagine whatever forces remain in the Riverlands, Edmure can rally. We can call on the Stormlands too.” Tyrion’s eyes glanced to Brienne and she nodded emphatically.

She would write her father immediately. He was not the type to sit idly while this type of injustice was done. It also wouldn’t take much convincing when Brienne informed him that Cersei threatened her life.

With what remained of Dorne, the Stormlands, and the Riverlands, they would a good chance to battle whatever army remained in King’s Landing to protect Cersei. _Who would protect her? Who has she not made an enemy of?_

Sansa offered another consideration. “We should speak with Jon. He might be willing to move south with you. He’s an excellent swordsman and he’s been in battles north of the wall. He was also Commander of the Night’s Watch. We’ll send the rest of the North as well. There will be too many for Cersei to fight against. I imagine any surviving soldiers from the West and the Reach will join us as well.”

Tyrion nodded at her words and scratched at this chin. “Cersei wouldn’t send this before she had a plan for defense. Either she has an army on assembled on the ground in King’s Landing or she will purchase one from across the sea. My guess would be the Golden Company. We should write them immediately. Offer double whatever Cersei did. She doesn’t have enough coin to beat our price.”

 _They truly think Cersei thought this far ahead?_ Brienne marveled at how Sansa’s and Tyrion’s minds worked. Admittedly, Brienne’s initial thought had been to summon the kingdoms they knew would take their side and immediately move south. Considering Cersei’s approach had not crossed her mind.

The rest of the day was a flurry of activity. Sansa and Tyrion wrote missives to the other kingdoms explaining what had happened. Sansa also spoke with Jon who was more than willing to march south with them. Ned Stark’s bastard approached Jaime and Brienne later that day as they briefed the commanders of their small army.

“Ser Jaime. Lady Brienne. I’ll come south with you. You’ve kept your oath to Lady Catelyn. Kept my sister safe. I owe you a debt. I’ll help you get your aunt back and deal with your sister. She has done much harm to my kin and I’d be glad of it.”

With an appreciative nod, Jaime and Brienne accepted his offered aid. Later that evening, they sat down for supper. Tyrion and Sansa indicated that the North would move out in four days. That would give the northern most houses time to arrive at Winterfell and journey south with them. Along the way, they would meet with the remaining northern houses.

The North would take near a moon’s turn to get to King’s Landing. In their missive to the other kingdoms, Tyrion had indicated as much so that a plan could be formed. All kingdoms west, east, and north of the capital would meet along the Kingsroad at Hayford Castle. The army from Dorne would await word at the Roseroad just outside the city.

Brienne could tell that Jaime was eager to get to his aunt. She could hardly blame him knowing what Cersei was capable of. The atmosphere was thick with tension as everyone remained lost in their own heads; no one offering much in way of conversation.

Then Tormund approached. At her side, Brienne saw Jaime tense as the wildling’s eyes moved to them before scanning the table to Jon.

“Lady Sansa. We heard from Jon what happened to your southern people.” Tormund inclined his head towards Jaime, Brienne, and Tyrion. “We agreed to join the North when called on. As we said, we won’t bend a knee to anyone, but we will fight for our friends. We will move south with you.”

Brienne looked wide-eyed to the Lannister brothers and Sansa. The thought of wildlings which included a giant fighting at their side seemed incredible. _Cersei won’t stand a chance_.

Sansa stood from her chair and smiled warmly at Tormund. “I appreciate that more than you know. My husband and goodbrother will need all the help they can get.”

Tormund nodded to Jaime and Tyrion. “I’m sorry you lost your people. I understand the feeling.”

With a small nod, Jaime smiled at the man. “Thank you, Tormund. We can certainly use the aid.”

Later that night, Sansa and Brienne met as their husbands devised a plan of attack. Hesitantly, Brienne looked to Sansa and told of her plans. “Jaime has never abandoned me, and I won’t abandon him now. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here. I need to help him. We’ll see to it that you and Rickon have ample defense.”

Sansa turned to Brienne; a determined look on the young woman’s face. “I’m going south too. Rickon will stay here in my stead. There must always be a Stark at Winterfell. I’ve always wanted to be there when Cersei draws her last breath. I won’t miss the chance.”

With a heavy sigh, Brienne shook her head. “It won’t be safe for you there. If Cersei somehow wins…”

“Then she will come north for me anyway.” Sansa’s voice was sharp as steel; her posture tense. The set to Sansa’s facial features looked so much like Lady Catelyn in that moment. “We will move south together and take out our common enemy. Westeros will never see peace until Cersei is removed from this world.” 

A small smile flickered across Sansa’s face. “Besides… our husbands will need us to keep them in line. It also prevents my home from being further pummeled by a pair of mating lions.”


	36. Foggy Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The march south is underway. Jaime and Brienne wander a bit too far from camp.

To say Jaime was displeased by Brienne’s presence would be an understatement. He loved Brienne fiercely, but her willingness place herself in the path of danger vexed him to no end. Jaime nearly lost her not even two moons ago and he couldn’t risk it again.

They were nearing Greywater Watch and the weather was taking a nasty turn. A cool breeze from the north whipped at their back as a light snow began to fall. _Bloody north. Too damn cold. Good luck to Tyrion dealing with this shit permanently._

Jaime looked to Brienne and smiled inwardly. _She’s miserable too. Such an island girl. At least it will be easy to convince her to sleep closer tonight._

Closer to the front of the lines, Jaime spotted Jon, Sansa, and Tyrion. The ground rumbled slightly with every step their army took. They North had a surprising number of able-bodied men to fight, but it was the giants that caused most of the ruckus.

It was an unnerving sight and sound. The wildlings would give them an advantage in the battle to come but traveling with them was an altogether different thing. They were loud and uncivilized; little appreciation for Westerosi custom nor social decorum.

Jaime appreciated that Tormund had left Brienne alone after she told him off in the yards of Winterfell, but it didn’t stop the wildling’s roaming eyes. It was as though Tormund could sense when Brienne was near and he would immediately turn to track her.

He never moved towards her or spoke to her. Tormund seemed content to admire her from afar. It wasn’t something that pleased Jaime, but he tried to put himself in the wildling’s shoes. _If she wouldn’t have me, would I stop wanting her? No. I’d likely be worse than Tormund._

The thought always made Jaime feel a touch possessive and needy. The thought of a world where Brienne wasn’t his. Brienne always humored Jaime in his needy moments however. She never asked when his hand reached for hers at relatively inappropriate times; such as when she was trying to train with Pod. He almost lost his other hand at the unexpected movement.

Jaime remembered the pain of losing his swordhand. It wasn’t the pain that came to mind when he and Brienne gasped at the realization that Jaime’s hand came dangerously close to being hacked off. No, it was the thought that he would have no hands left to feel her skin under his fingertips. To hold her hand in this.

“I suppose I should be more careful. I don’t have a hand to spare.”

If there was one thing that Jaime appreciated less than his wife’s relentless quest to throw herself into battle and the wildling’s wandering eyes, it was the lack of privacy on the war march. Now that Jaime had a taste of Brienne at Winterfell, he was addicted. He couldn’t go a day without trying to get her alone.

They had found ways to come together almost daily on the march south. It took little more than a look between them to know what the other wanted. That evening as the men made camp for the night, Jaime took Brienne by the hand and pulled her into the marsh ahead. It was foggy and quiet. The sounds of the camp slowly faded into the background as he eyed her wantonly.

Brienne’s hand was warm in his. Her breath visible in the cold northern air. Her eyes shone in the last rays of the sun. Jaime felt his cock go half hard just looking at her. When they were far enough away from camp and Jaime couldn’t wait any longer, he pulled her around a wide tree.

The sound of the swamp water muffled the distant sounds of soldiers making idle conversation with each other. A slight moldy smell wafted through the air and the sound of croaking frogs served as an unusual background from their coupling. Jaime gently pushed Brienne back against the tree and pressed his body firm to hers.

His lips moved to that little spot below her ear where her jaw met her neck. The unique scent of Brienne invaded his nose and washed out the scent of the moving swamplands around them. Jaime felt Brienne’s hands run through his hair as he pulled his head back to find her lips with his.

Jaime knew they had to be relatively quick and he hated it. He preferred taking his time with her; particularly putting his mouth on her. _All the more motivation to get to King’s Landing and be done with it. We’ll soon be back at the Rock and can stay holed up in our room for moons on end_.

As his hand drifted to her breeches, Brienne’s hands reached for his. The snap of a twig caught their attention. Their hands and bodies stilled instantly. The only movement were the puffs of air from their quickened breathing.

Jaime’s eyes darted to Brienne as his hand wordlessly went to the dagger at his hip. Brienne quickly laced his breeches as Jaime turned around and blocked her body protectively with his own. _Seven hells if this is Tormund trying to catch a look again._

Then another twig snapped, but from a slightly different direction. Brienne’s lips tickled his neck as her hushed words floated to his ear “Jaime. We’re surrounded.” Following her gaze, Jaime saw a pair of eyes crouched in some thickets.

“Run back to camp. I’ll distract them.” Moving his hand from the hilt of his dagger to Widow’s Wail, Jaime unsheathed his sword. The sound of twin steel reached his ears and Jaime stared at Brienne in irritation. She stood shoulder to shoulder with him, Oathkeeper raised in hand.

“Brienne… go back to camp.” Jaime spoke through gritted teeth and watched as more eyes appeared around them.

“No.”

_Gods damnit. Stubborn, insufferable wench._

Jaime searched what little he could see. _Crannogmen_. Speaking as confidently as he could, Jaime’s eyes scanned the swamplands before them. “You go get word to your lord, Howland Reed. We are passing through with the North’s army at the order of Lady Sansa. It would be ill-advised to slaughter her goodbrother and goodsister.”

One of the men stood before them. He was much closer than Jaime had realized. _Gods they moved in quietly._ The man barked a command at another amongst their rank. “Go inform Lord Reed. Tell him we have the Lannisters and will be there shortly.”

Jaime swallowed thickly and looked back towards the camp. He instantly regretted taking Brienne so far from camp in an area of Westeros still holding little love for anyone wearing crimson and gold.

The man who had spoken nodded to someone behind Jaime and Brienne. Roughly ten men moved at their backs. “Put down the swords. You’re well outnumbered here and far from you camp.”

Jaime scanned the area. There were easily thirty of them. _Seven hells._

With a look to Brienne, Jaime sheathed his sword and huffed in anger. Brienne mirrored his movement and they both raised their hands to show no harm meant. Multiple pairs of hands pushed them to the ground roughly and tied ropes around their wrists.

Once they were bound securely, the men hauled them to their feet. Jaime’s shoulder brushed against Brienne’s and the contact ignited a fierce protective instinct. “Take me but let her go. I’m certain my head is more than enough for Lord Reed.”

“No!” Brienne glared at Jaime as they were pushed forward. They walked for an interminable amount of time before reaching the house of Lord Howland Reed. As they entered the main hall, Jaime appraised the dark entryway. Like the swamp, there was a musty smell in the air.

_Gods. What a shit place to live. I suppose Tyrion could have it worse in the North._

From behind a doorway, the older lord appeared with more guards at his back. “If it isn’t the Kingslayer himself. I thought my men had lost their minds when they told me of your presence.”

Try as he might, Jaime could not contain the exaggerated eye roll at the man’s words. “You should know before you kill me, that I march _with_ the North. Your fellow vassals are out there and your liege lady among them.”

Lord Reed huffed a bitter laugh. “Yes, Sansa Lannister. Very impressive.”

“I do believe she was planning to go by Sansa Stark. My brother is _quite_ accommodating.” At Jaime’s words, Lord Reed offered an unimpressed glare.

“And what brings you through my lands? Let me guess… you’re marching more Northerners to your sister for their untimely demise. Word reached us that Cersei regained the crown. Your aunt, Lady Genna Frey, has been named a suspect in the murder of damn near everyone in the capital.”

Jaime snorted at the words. “How convenient. It seems that only ravens bearing my sister’s words can find your floating home. I’m fairly certain that Lady Sansa sent word of the actual events to all vassals before we set out. She has called the banners. That includes you… unless this shithole is capable of floating into the Riverlands.”

A snide smile spread across Howland’s face. “Your certainly haven’t changed, have you?” Looking to the men behind Jaime’s back, he tilted his chin. “And the others?”

“At their camp. We saw Lady Sansa among them. Ned Stark’s bastard too.”

At the mention of Jon, Jaime watched as Lord Reed’s stoic mask shifted. “Jon Snow is here?”

Jaime couldn’t see behind him, but he assumed the man nodded in confirmation. “Bring them here. Only Jon and Sansa. They are to be brought peacefully. Tell Lady Sansa that we _found_ her goodbrother and goodsister. She’ll need to retrieve them… if she cares to.”

Lord Reed pointed to a room across the hall and nodded at his men. Before Jaime could speak, the men at his back were pushing him forward into the room. It was clearly a dining hall of sorts, but it was evident that Lord Reed didn’t entertain many guests here.

The room was dimly lit, and cobwebs adorned much of the décor. Brienne and Jaime were shoved into seats at the center of the table before Lord Reed took a seat at the head of the table. 

“You will tell me what you plan to do in the capital. If your answers do no match that of Jon Snow and Lady Sansa, I will cut off your traitorous heads.”

Jaime snorted and looked to Brienne. “He’s as lovely as good old Ned. I can see why there were friends.”

Lord Reed slammed his hand onto the table. “Enough! You will not speak ill of such an honorable man in my house.”

Jaime sneered at the man, leaning into his space. “Don’t speak to me of honor. Where were you, Lord Reed, when Lady Sansa called for aid to remove the Boltons from the North? Only several southern houses of the North brought their men to aid our cause against Roose and Baelish. Is that _honorable_?”

Lord Reed sat back and appraised Jaime. Without addressing the question, he tilted his head and questioned him again on the journey south. “Why are you going south?”

“To kill my sister.”

For some time, Lord Reed asked more questions of their plans and what had happened at the Twins. The doors to the room opened and revealed Sansa and Jon. Sansa’s features relaxed immediately as her eyes landed Jaime and Brienne.

Attempting to control her anger, Sansa looked to Howland. “You kidnapped my goodbrother and goodsister. They were among our camp! Did your men forget what our sigil looks like?”

Howland Reed stood and offered a bow. “My lady. They were hardly _among_ your camp. In fact, they seemed quite occupied against one of the trees on my land.”

“Hardly as occupied as I had hoped to be.” Jaime’s words earned him a kick to the shin from Brienne.

Ignoring Jaime’s comment, Howland continued. “I have received a raven from the capital implicating this man’s aunt in the tragedy at the Sept. Until speaking with you and your brother for myself, my efforts were only meant to be in service to the North. If you ask no harm to befall them, then none will.”

“Remove those ropes!” Sansa spoke commandingly and Jaime smiled widely at Howland.

The guards moved to untie Jaime and Brienne as Howland asked Lady Sansa and Jon to sit. He offered water and some light food, but Sansa was eager to return to camp.

“Just a moment longer of your time, my Lady. I… I need to speak with Jon.” Howland glanced cautiously at Jon and took a steadying breath.

“I was with your father when your mother died in the birthing bed.” At Howland’s words, Jon’s eyes went wide in shock.

“You knew my mother? He never told me of her.” Jaime’s eyes darted to everyone around the table. _I just assumed honorable Ned found himself a nice tavern whore with Robert one night. I hardly expected he was with the woman through the birth._

“I did. Lyanna Stark.”

Jaime guffawed and everyone looked at him. “I’m sorry, but… this is perfect. All these years of snide remarks from Ned only to find out he was quite enjoying his sister too.”

Howland’s lips curled in distaste. “By the Gods, what is wrong with you!? Ned and Lyanna would never do that! Ned is not the boy’s father.”

 _Oh. I suppose I should have awaited that little detail_.

Sansa hummed in disapproval of Jaime’s response before Howland returned his gaze to Jon. “I swore to you father never to tell of this. I intended to take this to the grave with me, but given events in the capital… you’re not a bastard Jon. Your parents were wed.”

Jon’s brows furrowed in response. Jaime searched his memory and could hardly recall Lyanna wedding anyone. Again, Jaime was unable to bite his tongue. “She was betrothed to Robert.”

Howland rolled his eyes and sighed. “Aye, she was. It wasn’t Robert she loved though. Rhaegar never kidnapped her. They loved each other. He had his marriage to Elia annulled and they wed in secret. To keep her safe during the rebellion, Rhaegar had her sent to the Tower of Joy along with members of the Kingsguard.”

Suddenly, it came to Jaime. _Gods, he’s right. I remember._

Jaime felt his jaw go slack and he looked to Jon. “He’s right. I didn’t know… I was the only one left behind in King’s Landing. If you’re Rhaegar’s son that makes you…”

“Heir to the Iron Throne.” Howland finished the sentence for Jaime and looked to Jon. At his side, Jaime heard Brienne gasp.

_I must keep this boy safe. I’ll protect him with my life._


	37. A Growing Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group arrives at the Twins and meets some unexpected guests.

It took a few days after leaving Greywater Watch to arrive at the Twins. Brienne and Jaime decided that perhaps it wasn’t best to wander off from the camp which meant little more than lingering touches during the day and chaste cuddling at night.

As they stood before the Twins, Brienne felt dread pool in her stomach as a torrent of unpleasant memories hit her. Her connection to Jaime was unlike anything she had ever experienced with another. It was as though his thoughts were her own and she never needed to ask, his hand was always in hers when the trauma resurfaced.

“It will be alright. They’re gone and only friends remain. I won’t leave your side.”

Brienne nodded as they made their way inside. Sansa was eager to bring Jon to Edmure and update her uncle on everything. Stepping into the hall that stood a mere two levels above the dungeons she was once a prisoner in, Brienne felt as though Ramsay’s hands were reaching up to her from the Seven Hells.

“I’ll ask that we stay in the tower as we did before.” Again, Jaime read her thoughts and took measure to see her comfortable. Brienne looked ahead and saw Oberyn Martell sitting stoically in a chair. Her heart went out to the man. Oberyn had kept her as safe as possible from Ramsay and he now mourned his kin from halfway across Westeros.

Making her way to Oberyn, Brienne offered a sympathetic smile. “Prince Oberyn. I’m glad to see you, but I’m sorry for the circumstances.” Unlike the once vibrant man she met in King’s Landing well over a year ago, Oberyn’s eyes were hollow and his expression blank.

“Lady Brienne. It’s good to see you are well. As usual, your lion is rushing in to rescue a loved one.”

Brienne sat down beside him and looked to Jaime who was watching them from a distance. His eyes were solemn as he appraised the state of Oberyn.

“We were very sorry to hear of what happened in the capital. What Cersei did to your family and everyone else was horrible. I assure you, she will pay for this.” Brienne made no effort to suppress the anger in her tone. She was enraged for all parties involved. Jaime had lost a second child and most of his men. The Tyrells were wiped out. Oberyn lost his kin and many of his men.

Oberyn looked to Brienne and spoke quietly. “It’s a funny thing… revenge. It blinds you and makes you act without thinking. Consuming. It clouds your judgement to the point where you risk everything. Even those who don’t deserve it.” The knowing look Oberyn offered Brienne made her heart drop more.

He had already done more than enough to express his regret in involving her in the earlier plot. Now as he again extended his apology and regrets, his words also conveyed something else. A warning.

Oberyn shifted his gaze from Brienne and stared forward blankly. “Be careful when seeking your revenge in the capital. Take no more than is necessary to see evil removed from this world.”

Brienne placed a warm hand on Oberyn’s forearm. She looked to his hands and sighed at the sight of his missing fingers. The wounds had healed well enough, but he was a warrior who would never fight again.

“How is your recovery coming along? Can you walk?”

Oberyn sighed and laughed bitterly. “As well as I expected to. I get from one place to the next well enough. It just takes me as long as it would a babe learning to walk.”

A moment of silence passed between them before Oberyn continued. “Riding comes easier. I aim to join you. To lead my people. I sent a missive to Dorne along with the raven that I know your brother sent. While I can’t fight, I can lead. I will help remove the crown from that poisonous woman. After, I will do whatever is asked of me in service to the realm. This time, I’ll listen to someone who is decent.”

Brienne and Oberyn spoke a while longer before Jaime came over. “I think there is someone you’ll want to see outside.”

Bidding Oberyn goodbye, Brienne stood from her seat and Jaime tugged her along. They stepped outside and Brienne could see the smiling faces of Jon and Sansa as they spoke eagerly with someone before them. As Sansa caught Brienne’s eye, she waved her over. “Brienne! Please come join us.”

At Sansa’s words, the individual who she and Jon were speaking to spun around. Brienne looked into the eyes of Arya Stark; a wolfish smile stretched wide across the girl’s face.

Brienne’s steps faltered for a moment and Jaime lips came to her ear. “Careful. She’s a feisty little shit. I’ve already learned the hard way. She knocked me flat on my ass. Apparently, she does not find me amusing.”

Brienne snorted at the words and continued moving forward. Coming face to face with Arya, she smiled warmly. “Lady Arya. It’s good to see you looking well. I worried after we lost you in the Vale that you might not survive on your own.”

Arya kept her eyes fixed on Brienne. “I’m not a lady. I suppose you weren’t completely full of shit when you approached me and Sandor. My sister says I can’t kill your husband though. Pity. I suppose I’ll let him live. He was never on my list anyway.”

“Told you.” Jaime whispered into her ear as he laughed lightly. “Feisty little shit. All I did was make one little jape…”

Rolling her eyes at Jaime, Brienne looked back to Arya. “Where have you been?”

“Collecting faces.”

_Oh. That’s nice…_

Brienne looked to Sansa with a look of bewilderment, but the young woman waved her off and shook her head in shared confusion. Changing the subject, Sansa looked between Jaime and Brienne. “The Riverlands army is here and ready to depart on the morrow. We have more men than expected. It seems, goodbrother, that your father and the Freys did not get all the wolves. My great uncle lives. He is with the men and will meet us for dinner.”

Brienne gaped slightly at the words. “Ser Brynden? The Blackfish?”

With a nod of the head, Sansa looked to Jon and Arya. “May I have a moment alone with my goodbrother and goodsister please?”

The pair nodded and wandered back inside together. They were obviously happy to see one another and the sight warmed Brienne’s heart. Looking back at Sansa, Brienne observed her friend’s brows furrow and a pained expression on the face.

“I asked my uncle to stay with his men. He was _displeased_ to hear that I had aligned myself with Lannisters. In particular, he was concerned that I aligned myself with Ser Jaime. With the _Kingslayer_.”

Brienne glanced to Jaime and saw his eyes fall. It was something he was accustomed to hearing, but it still stung to hear. Brienne had a unique understanding of his situation. All her life, Brienne had been told that she was too ugly. Too manish. Too tall. That should we die an unloved maid or worse, die an unlove maid whose only physical contact with a man was violent.

There was a moment when she was Ramsay’s prisoner that she believed the latter to be true. Thanks to Jaime, Brienne came to learn that wasn’t true, even if most people were still disgusted by her presence. At least one person loved her and saw her as something other than an ugly beast of a woman.

Aside from Brienne, Jaime received affirmation from one person that he was something other than what world deemed him to be. Sansa had stood up for Jaime in Winterfell without knowing the truth of his slaying Aerys. No one had bothered to ask him what happened. No one cared.

Furthering the pain, Brienne knew that the Blackfish was someone Jaime had idolized in youth. She knew that the pair had met when he was introduced to Lysa; before he entered the Kingsguard. Jaime had conceded that the Blackfish was one of the knight’s he hoped to impress. Unfortunately, he did quite the opposite some years later.

Without hesitating, Brienne grabbed his arm at the wrist; just above his false hand. “He doesn’t know the truth of Aerys. He wouldn’t feel that way if…”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s fine.” Jaime’s voice was bitter and he looked to Sansa with a blank expression on his face. “Will he not march south with us then? Is he going to keep the entire Riverlands army here because of me?”

Sansa shook her head. “He will go south, but he has asked that you stay out of the Keep when they lay siege. He… he doesn’t trust that you won’t try to save your sister.”

Jaime chuckled and shook his head. “He’s likely sparing her from a more vicious death. Fine. If that is what it takes to gain their support, I’ll stay outside the Keep and lead the men against any opposing forces trying to keep us at the city gates.”

With a heavy sigh, Sansa looked to Brienne before meeting Jaime’s eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s unfair for him to ask this of you. I tried to tell him all that you’ve done to keep me safe. To see the North back in Stark hands. To remove those who killed our kin. He would hear none of it. Even Edmure tried to vouch for you.”

Jaime huffed a laugh and looked to the sky. “It’s fine. I know what I am to Westeros. I’ve lived with it now for more than half my life. I’m used to it.”

Sensing Jaime’s souring mood, Brienne tried to distract him. “Do you want to get settled in the tower? We can eat there if you prefer.”

With a slight shrug, Jaime agreed, but Brienne could tell that he was still off. They moved to walk away, but Sansa’s hand grabbed at Jaime’s arm. “Jaime.”

At the familiarity of Sansa’s tone, Brienne paused and looked to Jaime. He slowly looked to Sansa with a sigh. “Yes?”

“May I ask… why did you do it?”

A bitter smile curled Jaime’s lips and Brienne dreaded his answer. He was in one of those moods that would yield nothing but hateful words. The mask he wore to Westeros was firmly in place and his eyes were cold. “Because I have shit for honor. I’m an oathbreaker.”

“Jaime! Stop it!” Brienne snapped at his words “She asked you a question. She stood up for you in front of the North without even knowing the truth. Who else has ever bothered to ask or assumed positive intent?”

At Brienne’s words, the shadow that had fallen over Jaime’s face faded away. His eyes softened and he sighed. “I’m sorry. That was unworthy. It really doesn’t matter though. I don’t care to try and change anyone’s mind and Westeros is content to keep their history set.”

“I’m your goodsister. I wish to know the truth because I care.”

Jaime shrugged and spoke quietly. “Aerys was going to use wildfire to destroy the entire city. To kill everyone in it. I asked him to surrender, but he wouldn’t listen. He gave the pyromancer the order to burn them all, so I killed him. Your father walked in and saw me sitting there with Aerys dead and blood pooling everywhere. He deemed me guilty. I’ve been the Kingslayer ever since.”

Sansa’s mouth gaped at the confession. She nodded numbly before collecting herself. A small smile crossed her face. “Now that makes much more sense. It aligns with the man that I know. Thank you… for saving everyone at the cost of yourself.”

Moving quickly towards him, Sansa pulled Jaime into a tight hug. Brienne saw Jaime stiffen at the unexpected contact, but he relaxed after a moment and accepted Sanas’s hug. Breaking the embrace, Sansa smiled warmly at them and moved inside the hall to join Jon and Arya.

Brienne took in his shocked state and grabbed Jaime’s hand. “Come on. Let set our things down in the room before supper.” They walked to the Water Tower in relative silence. Brienne knew that Jaime’s emotions were a mixed bag; partial bitterness at the Blackfish and partial appreciation of Sansa.

Making their way inside, the pair moved up the spiral stairs towards the room that Edmure had assigned them. He recalled Brienne’s emotional state and hesitance to enter the main keep before they moved out north and had preemptively ordered the staff to prepare a room in the Water Tower.

Pod and Bronn were eager to stay in the keep; far removed from certain _noises_ that had oft drifted through the dark hallways at Winterfell. As it turned out, everyone seemed eager to be placed far from Jaime’s and Brienne’s room.

Shutting the door behind them, Brienne removed her sword belt and placed Oathkeeper in the corner. She removed her cloak and placed it over the chair in the corner before glancing out the window. In the distance, she could see the army of the Riverlands camped outside the southern gates. The flickering campfires cast long shadows across the rows of tents setup in the field.

Jaime’s arms wrapped around her waist and his lips came to her neck. “Will you keep me company outside the gates of King’s Landing while the Blackfish has all the fun?” Brienne chuckled and turned in Jaime’s arms. “I suppose I’ll stay with you and spend the time ducking under giant’s legs.”

A lascivious smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as his eyes moved down her body. “I quite like a long pair of legs. Even better being between them.” Before Brienne could reply, Jaime picked her up and flung her onto the bed.

“Lets take supper in here. I don’t want to deal with the putrid smell of those Tully fish.” Brienne rolled her eyes but was quickly distracted by Jaime’s lips moving to hers as his hand trailed down to her breeches.

“I’ve missed you, wench.”

Brienne chuckled against his lips and brushed her hand through his hair. “Its only been a few days, Jaime.”

“Too many days. The North ruins everything.”

Jaime tugged at the laces of her breeches and began to push them down along with her smallclothes. Moving quickly between her legs, Jaime tugged off her boots and breeches before placed his mouth on her. The room seemed to shrink in as Brienne bit back a moan. His tongue seemed to be everywhere at once and yet not enough. She needed him and couldn’t wait.

“Jaime. Please. I need you.”

Ignoring her demands, Jaime continued his assault and Brienne’s hips bucked up involuntarily. The room began to spin as her pleasure built. Grabbing his hair, Brienne tugged his head up as she panted his name. “Jaime. Please.”

As Jaime moved back up the bed, Brienne made quick work of his laces. She shoved his breeches and smallclothes down as his cock moved urgently into her. Their clothed upper bodies added a suffocating barrier between them, but Brienne couldn’t stop. She needed him desperately.

Angling her hips, Brienne gripped his ass and pulled him closer. The room filled with their moans and the rhythmic sound of skin hitting skin. It was a passion filled, rapid coupling; much like those away from the camp on the way south. The only difference was the uninhibited moans filling the room as they gasped each other’s names.

As they came together, Jaime spilled deep in Brienne with a loud cry. Dropping his head beside hers, Jaime’s rapid breathing warmed the skin below her ear. Brienne ran her hands up and down his lower back as Jaime softened inside her. Without looking to her, Jaime spoke breathlessly into her ear. “How’s the wall?”


	38. Planning to Face the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa has a chat with Jon and Arya. Plans are made as they prepare to continue moving south.

Sansa should have kept her mouth shut, but how could she? Her goodbrother saved a city and was treated like a disease by the entirety of Westeros. Only Brienne knew the truth of his actions in all the years since he killed the mad king.

_My own father? How could he not ask what happened? Was it his distrust of Tywin that made him think so little of Jaime? Are we all considered little more than an extension of our parents? What do people assume of me because of Ned Stark?_

Sansa had immediately pulled Tyrion aside and told of what Jaime had done. If anyone else had the right to know, it was Tyrion. Of course, all he did was sigh and shrug. “Typical Jaime. Self-sacrificing to the end.”

“So what do we do? I won’t let my great uncle treat him so horribly the remainder of the journey south when everything he knows of your brother is a lie.” Sansa’s tone betrayed her indignant outlook on the matter.

With an exaggerated sigh, Tyrion shook his head and turned away. “Jaime won’t appreciate you telling Brynden. I imagine he has kept it to himself for a reason. I wish he had told me at least, but for whatever reason he decided to keep it inside.”

_What!? How can I keep this to myself?_

With a look making it clear that her lips would not stay pressed together for long, Sansa took off to find the one person who she could trust to keep quiet on the matter. Jon.

Jon was the ideal person to speak with for two reasons. To start, he could keep a secret if necessary. Second, when he became king, he could do something useful with the information.

_Perhaps between Tyrion and me, we could find a way for Jon to get the information out to Westeros. I won’t have the kingdoms call him ‘Kingslayer’ with scorn when they should be thanking him._

When Sansa told Jon the truth of what happened, his reaction was much like her own had been. Shock. Sansa pressed Jon on the matter and spoke urgently. “I won’t have Uncle Brynden insulting Jaime the entire way south to remove the last of the poison from Westeros. He has done more than enough to make up for the sins of his father and sister. He is my brother now!”

Putting up his hands in surrender, Jon tried to calm Sansa. “Aye, I agree. I’ll handle the matter. I’ll ensure Uncle Byrnden keeps his mouth shut without divulging the truth of it. When the war is won, we’ll think how best to rectify this.”

Sansa felt her shoulders relax slightly and her facial features softened. “Good. Thank you. If Uncle Brynden still can’t control himself after you speak with him, I’ll give him a talking to myself.”

Jon chuckled and shook his head. “Now that would be frightening. I think he’ll do anything to avoid that. You’re much like her you know… your mother that is. She would be proud of you as I am.”

Strangely, it felt as though Sansa’s heart simultaneously swelled and broke. She felt pride in Jon’s words that she had grown into anything resembling her mother; the woman she idolized. She also felt sorrow in knowing that her parents would never be there for the big moments in her life. They were not there when she was wed. There were not there to see their children reclaim their ancestral home. They would not be there to hold their first grandbabes. They would not be there to see Jon coronated.

Before they could speak on it further, Arya approached. “Hey. I need to show you both something. Something that can help us win this fight without much bloodshed."

With a curious look, Sansa followed Arya as her younger sister weaved her way through the halls of the Twins. It was still a shock to see Arya before her. Like Rickon, she looked aged beyond her years despite still being a child.

When they came to stand before Arya’s assigned room, the young girl looked back at them with mischief in her eyes. “You mustn’t tell anyone of this yet or I’ll be forced to add them to my collection.”

_What? What does that mean?_

A slight dread tugged at Sansa’s stomach as she glanced to Jon. For his part, Jon looked equally uncertain despite his overt excitement at seeing Arya earlier that day. Arya and Jon had always been inseparable. Jon was always outcast based on his station; a bastard of a great house. Arya was always outcast based on her affinity for traditionally male endeavors rather than an expected affinity for the female arts.

Sansa used to think herself superior to Arya. She was better with a needle and courtly words. She was better with fashioning extravagant hairstyles and her body fit better into fine dresses. It wasn’t until she met Brienne that Sansa realized how little all of that mattered. How none of it reflected the quality of the woman.

Looking at Arya now, Sansa saw something of Brienne in her sister. _I should have been kinder to Arya. Was anyone kind to her aside from Jon? Mayhap father? He always had a soft spot for her._

Walking into the room, Sansa noted a small bag carelessly thrown on the bed. The room was dark with a barely stoke fire in the hearth.

“Now don’t go freaking out like such a girl, Sansa.” Arya’s voice was laced with amusement as her back remained to them. She bent over the bag and reached in to pull something out which Sansa could hardly see. With her head bowed down, Arya pulled the object to her face and slipped it on. When Arya turned around, Sansa was met with none other than Meryn Trant.

Sansa gasped and stumbled backwards. Her arms flew out to grab at anything for purchase. Jon’s arm moved securely around her waist to hold her upright.

“By the Gods! Arya! Is that you? How did you…” Sansa’s voice betrayed her horror. Arya chuckled, but the voice wasn’t hers. It was deeper. A man’s voice. _His_ voice. Sansa would remember that voice anywhere. Memories of abuse at Joffrey’s command rushed back to her.

Jon removed his hand from Sansa’s waist and took a step towards Arya. He slowly reached out to touch Arya’s face and gasped at the contact. “What kind of magic is this?”

“I’ve been training with the Faceless Men across the Narrow Sea. I’ve learned a lot in my travels. I have a plan for how we can get to Cersei.”

Jon nodded as Arya removed the face. She threw the leather-like flesh into her bag and looked confidently to the pair before her. “Call the commanders. I have an idea.”

With a nod, Jon turned to Sansa. “I’ll get the Blackfish. Everyone else should be here in this keep.”

Sansa nodded numbly and shook her head as though to rid any remnant confusion. “Oh, on the way, can you stop at the Water Tower? Jaime and Brienne are staying there.”

“Oh no. I’m not going to get them. I’ve had quite enough of that for one lifetime. You love your goodsiblings so much, you get them.”

 _Seven hells. I’ll send Pod_.

Sometime later, all the commanders were assembled around a table in the keep of the northern castle. Sansa smirked at the slightly disheveled state of her goodbrother and goodsister. _Gods these two._

Arya explained her training across the sea and gave a demonstration when the groans of disbelief filled the keep. From that point forward, no one challenged Arya’s capabilities.

The plan was simple, Arya would ride ahead to assess Cersei’s defenses. She would take the face of a castle guard and try to obtain valuable information on Cersei’s plans. From there, she would return the intelligence to a team waiting for her in the tunnels of the Keep.

Arya had explored many of the tunnels during her time in King’s Landing. The only other person as familiar with them was Jaime.

It did not surprise Sansa when Jaime offered to help Arya by leading a small team to keep her safe and await her return in the tunnels. It surprised Sansa even less when Brynden spoke up and condemned the plan.

“Under no condition will I entrust the Kinglsayer with my great niece’s safety! He’s likely to use the opportunity to crawl into his sister’s bed.”

Jaime’s face flushed with rage, but it was Sansa who found herself unable to bite her tongue. “With those words, you insult not only my goodbrother, but my goodsister! Ser Jaime has done everything to keep his vows to his wife and keep her safe from Cersei’s reach. He has more than proven himself an ally in this war against those who would do us harm, Cersei among them.”

With a scoff, Brynden looked to Sansa. “You’ve been poisoned by the Lannisters! My niece is rolling in the grave at your words.”

“Enough!” Jon’s voice echoed off the walls and caught everyone by surprise. “While you’ve been in hiding trying to amass surviving Tully men, Sansa has been fighting to reclaim our home. She has grown into a woman that Lady Catelyn would be proud of. She survived more in the last two years than most would hope to face in a lifetime. Ser Jaime has been part of the effort to see her survive those circumstances. I am honored to fight at his side and if you’re not, you should stay here. We can take the crown without you or your men.”

Brynden smirked at Jon and straightened where he stood. “I think that’s the most I’ve heard you speak all your life.”

Jon’s face held a fierce expression as his eyes remained locked on the Blackfish. “As you may know, it is difficult to get a word in when surrounded by Tully women. I’ve found it is best not to interrupt. They have the right of it. Your niece sent Ser Jaime off with Lady Brienne because she trusted that he would keep his vow and see her daughters returned home in exchange for his freedom. Mayhap she saw something in him that no one else cared to see. He kept his oath and turned against his own kin in the process. My sister continues to fight for our houses every day. Lady Catelyn would be proud of her as I am.”

At Jon’s words, Brynden had the good grace to look ashamed of his words. He looked to Sansa and inclined his head. “My apologies, Lady Sansa. My history with the Lannisters dates back farther than you and Jon have drawn breath. You have experienced but a sampling of what they are capable of. Forgive me for being leery of trusting anyone wearing crimson and gold.”

Sansa took a steadying breath and held his stare. “Well now I wear crimson and gold. If you don’t trust my husband and goodbrother, than you don’t trust me. I am Sansa Stark of Winterfell and I am a Lannister. It doesn’t need to be us against them. Lions against wolves. Crimson against grey. We can work together to remove our common enemies. It was familiarity that cost my family their lives. House Frey was a friend to House Stark for longer than I have drawn breath as well. I don’t imagine that when you sat down to toast to Edmure’s marriage, you expected our kin would be slaughtered under guest right.”

With a conciliatory nod, Brynden looked across the table to Jaime. “I will move south with all of you. I still would feel better if we sent in someone else with Arya.”

Arya snorted. “No one else knows the tunnels as Ser Jaime does.”

“I do.” Tyrion’s voice was unwavering as his words captured everyone’s attention. “I will accompany Lady… my apologies… Arya, into the tunnels. Surely, Ser Bryden you do not worry about my relationship towards my sister. If anything, Arya and I may end up fighting it out for the honor of slitting her throat.”

Sansa felt panic at the thought of Tyrion being so close to danger. She silently implored him to rescind the offer. To stay safe with her at the back of the lines outside the city. He would not.

Brynden nodded in acceptance of Tyrion’s offer. “Aye. That will do. I’ll offer some of my best men to guard you both into the tunnels.”

Arya sighed. “No more than four. We can’t risk too many. They could draw unnecessary attention.”

As the meeting ended, it was determined that Arya, Tyrion, and four of Brynden’s men would set out at first light to reach the city before the larger group. They would amass as much information as they could and meet everyone at Hayford Castle for the attack.

Grabbing Tyrion’s hand, Sansa led him to their assigned chambers. As they stepped inside, she rounded on him. “You can’t do this! You’re not a fighter, Tyrion!”

“No, I’m not. We do however need someone who knows the tunnels to accompany Arya. I don’t need to fight. I need to keep the men safely hidden below the Keep until Arya returns with information. I can do that.”

Sansa scoffed and looked away. “And if you’re caught? What then? Cersei has you and she will show no mercy.”

Tyrion sighed and ran a hand through his curls. “Well our options are rather limited and this approach has the potential to see this war ended with the least amount of bloodshed and death. You heard your uncle. He won’t trust Jaime where it concerns Cersei.”

Sansa sat on the bed in despair. “I can’t lose you.”

“Nor can I lose you. I don’t want you anywhere near the capital either. This will all be over with soon enough and we’ll never have to go back there. Well… not unless Jon demands our presence for less dangerous events. Mayhap a ball or two.”

With a slight chuckle, Tyrion sat down beside Sansa on the bed and took her hand in his. “I have little desire to leave you alone in this world. Imagine how bored you would be with another husband. Who would keep that brain of yours challenged?”

Sansa’s lips tugged into a smile at his words. Her tone took on a teasing lilt. “Well… I _would_ still have a home to live in however without visits from your brother and goodsister.” Tyrion and Sansa chuckled slightly at the words, but her mirth dropped as she met Tyrion’s eyes “But… I would rather live amongst the ruins of Winterfell with you, than bed down under a roof and four walls with someone else.”

That night they came together for the first time with the sounds of the Green Fork’s current drifting through the window. Sansa felt home for the first time since her parents were taken from her.


	39. Valonqar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle at King's Landing takes place and the Valonqar kills Cersei.

Jaime paced anxiously just south of the encampment at Hayford Castle. They had sent riders south with Oberyn the day prior to escort the Dornish prince to his army. Now, Jaime waited impatiently for Arya, Tyrion, and their Tully guards to return.

From behind him, Brienne sighed loudly. Jaime turned to see the love of his life sitting on a tree stump and looking to him as though he was half mad. “You’re going to form your own trench pacing like that!”

“They should have been back a day or two ago. What if something went wrong?”

Brienne sighed and looked into the distance. “If they’re not here on the morrow, we’ll march on the capital.”

“Something isn’t right. I should have gone with them.” Jaime turned back to the direction of King’s Landing.

Jaime heard the familiar sound of valyrian steel being unsheathed. “Spar with me. It will distract you.”

Looking over his shoulder, Jaime chuckled at the sight of Brienne. _Gods she is glorious._ Holding her sword at the ready, Brienne’s posture took Jaime back to a bridge in the Riverlands.

A smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as he unsheathed his twin sword. “Remember my lady, don’t grimace. It gives away the game.”

Jaime lunged forward, but Brienne easily blocked the blow. They sparred for some time and Brienne continued to get the better of him. The sun was beginning to set in the distance and Jaime was feeling fatigue set in.

Abruptly, Brienne lowered her sword to her side. “Do you hear that?”

Jaime lowered his own sword and strained to hear. _Approaching horses._ Rushing up over the small rise before them, Jaime counted four horses and six riders. One of the riders appeared to be severely injured and listing.

As the riders came closer, Jaime could make out who they were. Three of the Tully men, Arya, Tyrion, and Genna. One of Brynden’s men was holding Genna upright as she flopped from side to side. _Gods! What has Cersei done to her?_

Rushing to the group, Jaime reached up for his aunt. Genna was barely conscious and pale as the Tully man handed Genna to Jaime. Brienne was at Jaime’s side immediately and yelled to Tyrion and Arya “What’s happened!?”

The group dismounted their horses and looked to each other warily. Arya stepped forward and looked at Genna; a slight grimace on her face. “Your sister has been starving her. She’s weak, but uninjured.”

Tyrion moved towards Jaime and grabbed his shoulder. “We need to get her to a bed. There is much to discuss.”

Their small group moved quickly to the large encampment. All expected kingdoms were present except for Dorne which waited just south of the capital. They brought Genna to a tent and Brienne immediately set to the task of getting the emaciated woman some water and bread.

Moments later, all commanders and lords assembled outside Genna’s tent to hear what information the group brought. Arya spoke quickly and relayed what they knew. “Cersei and Qyburn have amassed an army from within. Since hearing of our march south, they’ve been bringing in men and young boys from across the city to the keep. They’re offering false claim of food for their starving families as the gates have been closed since we arrived. Qyburn is giving the men and boys some type of potion. It seems to give them inhuman strength and unflinching loyalty to whatever Qyburn and Cersei say.”

Arya took a steadying breath. “What they give takes an almost immediate effect. I heard Qyburn discussing it with Cersei. It seems he used to administer the potion in multiple doses but found a way to combine the solution safely enough into one. Once given, the victim is almost immediately changed. Cersei… she…”

A shadow passed over Arya’s face as she looked around the group. “She has been ordering these… men… to go back to their homes and kill their kin before manning the walls and ensuring no one tries to leave. That’s how we lost one from our party.”

A collective gasp went through the group as Arya shook her head. Hate filled her eyes as she continued. “These creatures are nearly indestructible. When we arrived, there were still small groups of opposing soldiers from Dorne, the Reach, and the West who had not been killed at the Sept. They were trying to protect the families in the city; standing guard outside the homes. Very few remain now. Maybe 3,000 total. I noticed Qyburn and Cersei applying some type of fragrance which seems to control the creatures. I took some just before we rescued Lady Genna from the cells.”

Arya produced a bottle and tilted it; showing the group the liquid inside. “The creatures don’t seem to see as well at night. We need to attack now. We should have as many of our men as possible splash this on. Hopefully it works for us as it seems to for Cersei and Qyburn.”

Jaime felt rage boil in his core. _How could Cersei be this vile? This cruel? She is turning innocents on their own family. Killing them from within while building this sick army of creatures._

Arya again appraised the group before her. “I already informed Dorne that we’ll need to move in tonight. They’ll be ready for the signal.”

The signal was easy enough. A giant waving a torch in the air. _Thank the Gods we have a giant._

Jaime took a deep breath and spoke to the group. “We need to be careful. If Cersei feels she is losing, I imagine she has more wildfire ready to take out the rest of the city. She cares little whether she rules a city of 500,000 or 5. She just wants the crown.”

Jon nodded and met Jaime’s eyes. “Is it spread throughout the city?”

“Yes. I doubt she has stashed more below the sept again. The other sections of the city would have it though. We should send a group into the tunnels to face any of these creatures and ensure no one remains to light the caches. Those men should use this fragrance and then we give the rest to the commanders on the front lines.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. They quickly assigned groups. Those in the tunnels and those above ground laying siege. Jon looked to Jaime. “Ser Jaime. Will you lead the men in the tunnels? You know them better than anyone.”

Arya nodded. “I only know the tunnels closest to and under the Keep.”

Jaime nodded to Jon and Arya. “Of course. I’ll see it done.”

The Blackfish huffed a sarcastic laugh. “Please! I would as soon cut off my own hand to match yours. I won’t see the Kingslayer in charge of our safety and the safety of the city.”

Jon spoke before Jaime could. “He is the best man for the job because he knows the city and he already performed this very act! He already saved the entire city form complete catastrophe once.”

_What!? How does he…_

Jaime’s head snapped to Sansa who looked to the ground. “Sansa…” Jaime’s tone was laced with warning and irritation.

Looking up at him, Sansa glared. “No, I’m sorry! This is absurd. I don’t know why you don’t want anyone to know the truth, but I do. I won’t see Westeros speak ill of my goodbrother when he saved everyone!”

Sansa turned to face her great uncle. “Uncle Brynden, were it not for Ser Jaime’s actions, Aerys would have set the entire city ablaze with wildfire. He tried to get him to surrender, but Aerys wouldn’t and he instead ordered the caches of wildfire throughout the city lit. Ser Jaime killed Aerys and the pyromancer. If you wish to call him Kingslayer for that, then I don’t wish to call you kin!”

A heavy silence fell over the group of military leaders. Jaime felt as though his heart was pounding in his ears. “Sansa, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but it really isn’t important. Lets just drop it.”

“No.” Jaime looked left to see Selwyn staring at him. “I don’t know what the deal is with the Blackfish here, but I will not listen to him disparage my goodson for such a heroic act. The very man who saved my daughter from death at the hands of madmen.”

Jaime’s mouth gaped slightly at his goodfather. Selwyn. The man whose daughter had been the only person to know his biggest secret until days ago.

“Does my great niece speak truth?” Brynden’s voice captured Jaime’s attention. All eyes were on Jaime as they awaited confirmation on the very topic that Jaime knew nothing but scorn for. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No, I agree with my great niece. This matters very much. You either wore the most soiled white cloak in the history of the Kingsguard, or the purest. I will know the truth of it now. I want to know the quality of the man I fight beside.”

Looking to the ground and sucking in a deep breath, Jaime nodded. “She speaks the right of it.”

Brynden sighed heavily from across the group. “Why did my goodnephew call you Kingslayer then? Did he not ask what happened? Did he see it happen?”

Jaime raised his head to meet Brynden’s eyes. His tone was bitter. “Ned didn’t see it happen. He walked in some time after and deemed me guilty.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

Jaime shrugged as though the issue inconsequential. “He didn’t ask and it didn’t matter. The city was safe. My reputation means nothing compared to that.”

Brynden shook his head. “Both can exist together. I had the wrong of it. I’ll give you as many men as you need Ser Jaime. How many do you ask of me?”

The words startled Jaime, but he had to focus on the task at hand. It was a matter of time before Cersei realized that Genna was missing from the cells and they prepared to attack.

Shaking his head in consideration, Jaime looked around the group. “I’ll need roughly 50 given the number of offshoots in the tunnels. Cersei will likely have most of her men above ground. She’ll only place enough below to see the wildfire lit below each tunnel system. They extend quite far and weave throughout.”

The men nodded their heads understanding. Jaime took that as a sign to continue sharing his thoughts. “The group we send through the tunnels should get a head start. Remove the threat below the city before Cersei has a chance to see what is happening at the gates. That way, she won’t be able to have the wildfire set off. Once the fighting starts at the gates, she’ll likely send most her men out to the gates. She will die on the throne before she gives up the crown. Keeping guards back at the castle would be wasteful in her mind. The same group should make their way into the Keep to kill Cersei and any of those creatures remaining.”

Brynden surprised Jaime by humming in agreement. “And where would you recommend that we lay siege? Which gate?”

Jaime saw all eyes again fall on him; eager to hear his opinion. “Well… ordinarily I would suggest we concentrate our forces at one gate but given how many men we have, the time of day we’ll be attacking, and the poor night vision that Arya observed, we should lay siege to each gate. It will catch them unaware and we have more potential to get men to the Keep faster. The giant should be at the Dragon Gate. Given where Cersei knows us to be marching from, it is the gate she would expect and place most of her forces. The giant will also be able to deal with any archers she has placed there.”

The men asked several more questions of Jaime and they soon had a plan. When everything was discussed, a moment of reflective silence hung over the group. Brynden barked at the men. “Well! You heard Ser Jaime! Lets move it. I would like to find rest before the sun comes up again.”

Sometime later under the cover of darkness, Jaime stood before his group at the entrance to the tunnels below the keep. Much to his disappointment, Selwyn and Brienne were among them.

Jaime’s group would face the most danger as they wound their way through tunnels trying to attack creatures looking to light wildfire at a moment’s notice. Neither Selwyn nor Brienne were willing to let Jaime go alone on such a dangerous mission.

As discussed earlier, their group took the fragrance that Arya had smuggled out of the Keep. They only had enough to use sparingly for the 50 among them. Other key leaders from their group included the Blackfish, Tormund, Bronn, and Arya. Jon would lead the attack at the Dragon Gate.

Once inside, Jaime handed out rough maps that he had made. It would be physically impossible to lead each group down the corridors given the system spanned much of the city. Selwyn led the group moving under Cobbler’s Square. Brynden led the group moving under the Dragon Pit which was near the Dragon Gate. Bronn led the group under the Street of Steel. Arya took the group near the Hook since she was familiar with that tunnel system which was nearest the Keep. Tormund took the group just south of Flea Bottom. Brienne led the group moving under King’s Square.

Given the proximity of King’s Square to the Sept of Baelor, Jaime felt most comfortable placing Brienne there as there was likely no wildfire left, which meant no creatures standing guard. Apparently, Jaime’s reason behind Brienne’s assignment was obvious to her. She scoffed and asked for a new section, but Jaime insisted.

Jaime would lead most of the group towards King’s Square and then help ensure everyone broke off towards their sections at the correct turns. He and a small group would then head towards the section just south of the old Gate.

That plan was that once each group removed the threats in their section of the tunnels, they were to return to where they stood now; just outside the tunnel system below the Red Keep.

Everyone moved quickly with their instructions after applying the fragrance as Arya directed. They encountered a few of the creatures along the way, but their combined scent immediately confused the creatures.

As they approached the first creature, Arya shouted out. “Slit your throat!” To everyone’s surprise, the creature did. “Well fuck me!” Bronn yelled in excitement at the sight.

Jaime had to remind the man to keep his voice down. “We don’t need to alert more of them to our presence. I don’t how many will take our command at once.”

Soon they reached the various cut away points of various tunnel systems. Jaime directed everyone as they went, and the group at his back grew smaller and smaller. Distantly, Jaime could hear the sound of swords and commands being given. No screams of human soldiers caught Jaime’s ear which gave him relief.

Above ground as they neared the city center, screams could be heard above ground. The siege had started. The group picked up the pace and soon, Jaime and his group stood alone in the dark passageways winding towards the Old Gate.

One of the creatures caught Jaime unaware as he rounded a corner. The creature’s strength was unlike anything Jaime had experience before. The man was smaller than Jaime, but easily four times as strong. With one hand, the creature shoved Jaime forcefully into the opposite wall. Jaime’s head hit the concrete hard as the creature jumped on him.

As it took in the scent on Jaime’s neck, the creature took pause. Jaime spoke through clenched teeth. “Get off me.” One of the men in Jaime’s group yelled at it. “Slit your throat!” The creature ignored the command and rounded on the new threat.

“Stop!” Jaime yelled to the creature. The creature’s progress immediately stopped and awaited Jaime’s next command. “Slit your throat.” At Jaime’s words, the once human man dragged its blade across his own throat.

_Seven hells. What the fuck just happened? Why did it only listen to me?_

Jaime was in a daze and everything was spinning. The men scooped him up and began speaking urgently. “Ser Jaime! Are you alright? Which way do we go?”

Jaime pointed in the direction they needed to head. He tried to focus and call out instructions, but everything was spinning. Blood dripped down the back of his head and pooled warm against his back; caught between his flesh and his sweat-slicked tunic.

They had all opted to forgo armor to ensure speed through the tunnels and Jaime instantly regretted the decision. He began to struggle keep up with the group as they ran. One of the men grabbed his arm and steadied him. “Ser! Do you need to stop? You’re bleeding.”

“No. Keep going. Make a right up ahead and then a left. It opens to another small chamber. There should be more wildfire caches there with a guard or two.”

The man nodded and ran ahead. Jaime struggled forward and heard the familiar sounds of a quickly quelled attack. After two more stops, they were ready to turn back towards the Keep. Jaime fought with everything he had to keep his focus and continue moving ahead.

His head throbbed and the tunnel blurred, but he kept the group moving back towards the Keep. They ran into Selwyn’s group on the way back who caught Jaime by the arm. “By the Gods, son! Your head!”

Jaime tried to laugh it off, but everything hurt. “You should see the wall. Bad habit of late I’m afraid.”

Looping an arm around Jaime’s waist to keep him steady, Selwyn tugged him along. “Just try to focus and direct the way. We’ll get you there.” They ran further ahead and were soon joined by Tormund’s and Brynden’s groups. Only three men had been lost in attacks so far.

Suddenly, screaming could be heard to the south. It was coming from the direction of Visenya’s Hill. _Brienne!_

The groups surged forward and turned slightly south. Bronn could be seen up ahead and yelling frantically back at some of the men. “Bronn! What happened.”

Bronn looked to Jaime with fear in his eyes. “Brienne’s group. We heard a crash and screams. The tunnels they were in must’ve collapsed.”

_Fuck! The structure was likely weak from the prior explosion. I sent her to her death!_

Panic coursed through Jaime and pushed any pain in his skull to the recesses of his mind. He pushed past Bronn and ran into the tunnel system towards the Sept. _Please Gods. Please let Brienne be alive._

Several turns in, he saw the group. A massive portion of the tunnel wall had collapsed and a few men were desperately trying to clear away debris. The sound of dying men reached Jaime’s ears and he began clawing desperately at the fallen rock and soil.

Soon, others joined his effort and they reached two men who appeared dead on impact. _No! No, no no!_

“Brienne!” Jaime screamed at the wall of debris in front of him as though it might answer him. A muffled sound came from the other side. Voices.

“Brienne! Can you hear me!?”

A male voice called back. “Ser Jaime? We’re stuck on the other side. We don’t know where to go.”

Jaime stepped back and considered the tunnel they were in. There was one other way around. _Please Gods. Don’t be blocked off too._

Taking off into a sprint, Jaime ran down the connecting passageways that were less used in this section of the city. He ran for what felt an eternity, but he soon came face to face with Brienne’s group.

There on her hands and knees looking down at a dying man was Brienne. Her head was blotted with blood from where stone likely fell. Diving at her, Jaime pulled her close. “Thank the Gods! I’m so sorry! I thought this would be safest.”

“Jaime, the men. I can’t leave them. Three are trapped still.”

Jaime looked up to better appraise the situation. There on the far right were three men half buried under the rubble. Their legs were likely broken or worse.

Moving quickly, Jaime assessed each of the men. Only one had potential to make it through his injuries. Directing the men to him, they began to dig quickly. More hands reached in then he expected to see. It occurred to Jaime that in his haste to get to Brienne, many of the men followed him.

With the larger group, they extricated all three men from the rubble, but two died almost immediately thereafter. As Jaime thought, only the one that he started working to save was left alive. Both of the soldier’s legs were broken and he was in immense pain.

Two men carried back the injured soldier and when they returned to the larger group, everyone moved purposefully towards the Red Keep. Arya’s group was standing near the entrance, but half were missing including Arya.

Jaime’s eyes darted around. “Where is Arya?”

With a slight shrug, one of the men huffed a laugh. “She said you were slow shits and then she took off inside. A few of the men followed.”

_Seven hells!_

Jaime looked back to their group and urged them forward. “Lets go _remove_ the queen.” The pain in his head had returned after the realization that Brienne was alive. He pushed forward knowing that the men needed him to lead in absence of Arya; the only other person with knowledge of the Red Keep tunnels.

Jaime led the way through the tunnels and towards the stairs that would take them to the map room. The sound of fighting a floor or two above alerted them that some creatures had remained behind to guard Cersei.

Everyone picked up the pace and climbed multiple flights of stairs. Surging forward, Jaime led the men into the map room and that is where he saw them. Qyburn and Cersei were surrounded by roughly a dozen of the creatures which Jaime felt was more like Cersei having 50 men guarding her given their unnatural strength and tolerance for pain.

Strangely, the dead men on the floor wore Dornish attire. Arya’s group was in battle with the twelve but falling quickly. It hit Jaime. The reason the creature in the tunnels only listened to him. _The creatures are following orders of whoever with that scent gave the first command._

Jaime and his men quickly entered the fight. Engaging the first creature he came before, Jaime dodged a fierce blow and sliced across the creature’s leg. To Jaime’s surprise, the creature only surged forward harder. More of his men joined him in the fight and distracted the zombie like soldier.

Jaime’s eyes flitted to Cersei and he saw her and Qyburn slowly backing their way towards a side exit of the Keep. Shouting to the men, Jaime alerted them of Cersei’s effort to escape. Brynden moved quickly with his group towards Cersei to block her progress. Two of the creatures engaged them; effectively keeping Qyburn and Cersei in the middle of the fighting.

Two of Jaime’s men fell as their bodies were sliced in half by one swing of the sword form the creature he faced. _Gods. They’re too strong. This is impossible._ _We need to kill Cersei first._

Jaime shouted his idea to the men. “We need to kill Cersei and Qyburn first! They might take our command then!”

With renewed purpose, the men tried to get through to Cersei and Qyburn. Most were immediately killed by the creatures, but one or two slipped through. The men grabbed Qyburn and stabbed him through the neck and back.

The disgraced maester fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood. Before the men could move to Cersei, one of the creatures rounded on them. With a quick swing of the sword, it decapitated one of the men before it picked up the second and threw him across the room. The man’s head split open on impact against of the stone column on the outskirts of the large floor map.

 _One more surge. We need to get another one or two through._ Jaime moved to rush in, but one of the creatures caught him by the throat. Distantly, Jaime heard Brienne scream his name as the creature lifted him off the ground by the neck.

Jaime gasped for air and flailed his legs. _Gods. Let one of the men get through._ In a heartbeat, Brienne’s sword cut through the creature’s gut; spilling its intestines to the floor. In a final fit of rage, the creature threw Jaime as hard as he could.

Jaime landed several feet away on the floor. The momentum sent him flying backwards into another column. He crashed into the stone with his back taking the brunt of it. Jaime felt a few ribs break on impact and a piercing pain hit his lungs.

Gasping for breath, Jaime saw Brienne running towards him; her eyes wide in fear. From his position on the floor, Jaime saw him. Oberyn.

The Dornish prince had been hovering in the shadows of the room; waiting for a moment to slide in. Crawling on the floor, he passed by two of the creatures engaged by soldiers and reached Cersei. Oberyn grabbed her ankle and yanked hard, sending Cersei to the floor unexpectedly.

Oberyn moved over her flailing body. As he sat astride her, Oberyn headbutted Cersei in the face with everything he had. A sickening crunch echoed throughout the room and blood splattered everywhere. Then Oberyn’s hands moved to Cersei’s neck.

Given his lack of fingers, Oberyn mostly used the palms of his hands to suffocate Cersei slowly as blood poured down her face and tears streamed from her eyes. The Dornish prince screamed in agony. “You kill my brother! You kill my children! Fucking bitch!”

Cersei’s body twitched violently under the man. When Cersei drew her last breath, Selwyn commanded the creatures to stop fighting. As Jaime had hoped, the fighting stopped instantly. The remaining men slit the throats of the creatures. Pools of blood from various bodies mingled with Qyburn’s and the Dornish soldiers.

The room started to go dark as Brienne shook Jaime. “Jaime! Stay with me. Stay awake! Please, don’t leave me! Stay with me! Please!”


	40. A New King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime recovers in King's Landing while Jon begins to make changes across the Seven Kingdoms

It had been four days since Cersei drew her last breath. Four days since Brienne thought Jaime dead. After the Keep was secured, Brienne remembered the chaos that followed. Two of the seven groups laying siege at the gates had made it to the Keep, but the others were in desperate need of help.

Arya raided Qyburn’s room and found more of the fragrance that the former maester and Cersei had been applying to control the creatures. Racing towards the various gates, their forces were slowly able to gain control and stop the creatures killing spree. 

They had lost some good men at the gates, but Brienne could hardly hear her father’s telling of the tale. She had refused to leave Jaime’s broken body. It was Brynden who set out to find a maester or healer within the city.

When at least help arrived, they moved Jaime to one of the room’s in the Keep. The local healer found that he had sever fractured ribs, but fortunately his spine had not snapped. What the healer did not know was whether there was unseen damage which could impair Jaime’s movement. They would not have that answer until he woke up.

Jaime was kept on a steady dose of poppy in the first three days before the healer decided to ween him from it. Even still, Jaime would likely be in immense pain when he awoke. Brienne refused to leave Jaime’s bedside. Aside from herself, Sansa and Tyrion visited the most.

Genne was still recovering in a room down the hall. When Sansa and Tyrion weren’t visiting with Jaime, they were often found tending to Genna and nursing her back to health. In addition to starving Genna, Qyburn and Cersei had been slowly poisoning the woman. She had frequent bouts of vomiting and struggled to remain nourished, but overall she was healing.

Selwyn was also a semi-frequent visitor to Jaime’s bedside. Her father looked fatigued as he and a small group of senior lords and commanders spent the days helping Jon sort through everything.

The only other constant guest to the room was Brynden. Brienne had initially been surprised to see the man and assumed he had stopped by to find Jon or someone else of import. When he pulled up a chair at Jaime’s bedside and looked on in worry, it was only then that Brienne realized he truly came to see Jaime.

Brynden had muttered more to himself than Brienne. “He saved us. I wouldn’t have figured it out with those things.” It had caught Brienne off guard, but she nodded. “He did. He’s quite good at saving others.”

With a heavy sigh, Brynden had looked to her then. “I was wrong about him. I’m sorry for that. He’s a good man.”

Brienne had chuckled and nodded. “I know he is. I would be dead many times over were it not for him. He looked up to you in youth, you know. He thought you among the great knights of Westeros.”

The Blackfish snorted and rolled his eyes. “I remember when he came to Riverrun as a boy. His father wanted to marry him off to my wretched niece, Lysa. He spent the entire time in my ear about the War of the Ninepenny Kings. Gods he never shut up or let me be. He seemed to have little interest in being told who he would marry and what he would do. Didn’t want to play lord of anything either. I was the same. It’s why I refused the match my brother tried to make for me. It’s why I refused any responsibility really. I just wanted to fight for my family.”

After that visit, Brynden returned multiple times a day. Brienne quite liked the man. He was opinionated and cynical, but she could tell that he was loyal, just, and brave.

It was on the fourth day that Jaime began to come out of his poppy induced sleep. Brynden had left from his visit not long before Jaime began to awake. The sun was starting to set and most of the castle occupants were making their way to the great hall for supper.

“Jaime! I’m here. You’re safe in King’s Landing.” Brienne tried to soothe him as Jaime’s face contorted in pain; his eyes squeezed shut in refusal to open. At the sound of her voice, Jaime opened his eyes and looked frantically for her.

“Brienne. Fucking hells. It hurts.”

Brienne wanted to sit beside him on the bed, but she was afraid to shift his body. His chest was heavily wrapped to keep his ribs aligned. The healer warned that Jaime would be in intense pain upon waking, but only rest and time would heal him.

“Well you’ve managed to do more structural damage to another keep. That column will never be the same. Unfortunately, your ribs weren’t quite as hard as your head and didn’t absorb the blow well.”

Jaime chuckled lightly before wincing in pain and grabbing his side. It broke Brienne’s heart to see him suffer and she grabbed his hand in hers. “I’m sorry. Don’t laugh or move.”

Brienne was afraid to ask the next question. “Jaime. Can you move your legs?”

The question caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face to his feet as he lay on this back. Giving him more context, Brienne spoke calmly. “The healer didn’t see signs of a break to your spine, but he said there could be some damage. The only way to know is if you can move your limbs. Maybe wiggle your toes or something. Don’t try to lift your entire leg or your ribs will hurt.”

Brienne held her breath as Jaime tried and successfully wiggled his toes on each foot. _Thank the Gods._

A relief like nothing she had felt before coursed through Brienne’s body. She leaned in and placed a gentle kiss to Jaime’s temple. “Can I get you water or food?”

Jaime hummed slightly. “Water.”

The corner of the room had a table which attendants kept stocked with food and a jug of water given Brienne’s refusal to leave the room. Sansa often brought larger plates up from the great hall and would spend her evening sitting beside Brienne and sewing.

Helping Jaime sit up slightly, Brienne placed pillows at his back and brought the cup to his lips. She could tell by the look on his face that the pain was intense. Like when Locke took his hand, Jaime hardly complained.

“I can see about getting you more poppy.” Brienne’s tone was laced with worry as she watched Jaime drink the water eagerly.

“No. No more damn poppy. I hate that shit.”

_Stubborn man!_

When Jaime had his fill of water, he laid back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling. Brienne placed her head against his while again taking his hand in hers.

“You should have had armor on.” The accusation was sincere, but Brienne’s words held no bite.

“You should have been in the North where it was safer.”

Brienne sighed heavily into Jaime’s neck. She was too relieved to argue with him. “You’re terribly annoying and I love you.”

Jaime chuckled under her and then hissed again in pain. “Stop that. Don’t make me laugh.”

After some time of companionable silence with their heads pressed together, Brienne told Jaime of everything that had happened. Of everything Brienne relayed, nothing shocked Jaime more than to hear that the Blackfish had been visiting.

“I should have Sansa and Jon yell at everyone who doesn’t like me. Apparently, that does the trick.”

As if summoned by Jaime’s mention, Sansa knocked lightly on the door and entered the room. She moved quietly inside with a plate of food in hand. Looking to Brienne with a small smile, Sansa did a doubletake at the sight of Jaime. Her eyes widened and she nearly dropped the plate.

“You’re awake! Oh thank the Gods!”

Sansa placed the food on the table and ran to Jaime’s bedside. Her fists bunched in excitement as she looked down at Jaime. “I could squeeze you!”

“No… please don’t.” Jaime’s protest was as weak as his body, but it was too late. Sansa enveloped his head in her arms and gave a good squeeze. As she pulled back to meet his eyes, Sansa’s face became stern. “Now don’t you ever do that again, Jaime Lannister!”

“Right, noted. I will never again allow myself to be thrown into a marble slab by a halfdead creature of Qyburn’s creation.”

Sansa scoffed and swatted at his arm. “You know what I mean! For a military commander, I thought you would know the point of armor.”

“No one wore armor! We had to move quickly.”

With an unimpressed glare, Sansa countered his response. “Oh, how clever. So if suddenly everyone decided to jump off the cliffs of Casterly Rock and into the sea, you would just follow along then?”

Jaime snorted and looked to Brienne mischievously. “I’ve already jumped from the cliffs. No one followed me though.”

Sansa walked back to the table and grabbed the plate of food for Brienne. As she handed the food to Brienne, Sansa pulled up a chair just as she had the past few days. “Your husband is very annoying.”

With a light chuckle, Brienne looked to Jaime. “Yes, I know. I’ve told him as much myself.”

Brienne began to eat and shared the food with Jaime while Sansa spoke of decisions made on the day. Little time was being wasted by Jon in trying to get the realm in order. Per Arya’s earlier assessment, there were some soldiers of Dorne, the West, and the Reach left among other surviving citizens of King’s Landing.

Both Jaime and Brienne were relieved to hear that of the near 3,000 surviving soldiers, about 2,000 were from the West. As the wedding between Loras and Obara was more a celebration between the Reach and Dorne, more of the West’s soldiers were on the outskirts of the hill.

Still, Brienne’s heart sank for the Reach and Dorne. They lost many important members of nobility and almost all of the Reach’s forces were gone. Prince Oberyn would rule Dorne and offered aid over the coming years to the Reach until their forces were replenished in time.

Jaime also committed to aiding the Reach as necessary. Jon named House Tarly liege of the Reach. Both Lord Randyll and his son, Dickon, had been killed at the Sept, but Jon’s friend Sam was still alive and currently at the Citadel. Jon wrote to Sam and informed him of his status and to give Sam the option to name his sister as liege lady.

Sansa also informed them that Lord Tarth was to be Warden of the East and new liege lord of the Stormlands. Brienne groaned inwardly at the thought. While her father always had much sway in the Stormlands, she worried of the stress this would place on him. Brienne had inherited her sense of duty from her father and she knew that he would honor Jon’s wishes.

At the information, Jaime smiled playfully and squeezed Brienne’s hands. “I guess we’ll need quite a few heirs then.”

Sansa snorted and crossed her arms. “Please. The _only_ good thing about your current condition is that the entire castle gets a break from the two of you going at it. That does remind me though…”

Brienne looked to Sansa and watched as her friend searched for words to convey her next thought. “Tyrion and I have spoken to Jon. We will take the name Stark and rule Winterfell together. Rickon is far too young and Jon thinks birth order should mean more than sex. He will back Tommen’s decision and keep me as Warden of the North. I was a bit hesitant to go by Stark, but Tyrion feels quite strongly that the two of you will have no issue doing your part to keep the Lannister name alive. He thinks you’re bound to repopulate the entirety of the West just with your heirs alone.”

With a huff of laughter, Brienne shook her and looked to Jaime. “This is hardly the reputation that I imagined developing.”

Jaime looked all too pleased with himself for Brienne’s liking. “I quite like this reputation better than my others.”

Continuing her updates from the day, Sansa made mention of the other decisions. The Blackfish would claim his ancestral home and rule as liege lord of the Riverlands. Edmure would remain at the Twins and rule there. Arya would remain in the capital with Jon and serve as Master of War. Brienne thought it a very fitting position for the young wolf.

After a few more updates, Sansa again took a steadying breath. “Lastly, we’ve received a missive from Varys.”

“Varys?” Jaime’s tone was laced with confusion as he looked between Brienne and Sansa.

With a small laugh, Sansa continued. “Yes, it seems he has arrived at Dragonstone with Daenerys Targaryen. She wishes to treat with Jon. She has heard of the events here in the capital and believes the crown to be hers.”


	41. A Meeting of Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys and Jon meet in King's Landing.

Jaime stood atop the battlements of King’s Landing with Brienne, Tyrion, and Sansa at his side. They looked out at the mass of Unsullied and Dothraki assembled at the city gates. Three dragons circled in the distance and sent shrill cries into the skies surrounding the city.

 _The dragon queen_. It was the name heard in every alleyway of the city and hallway of the Keep. Only a week prior, the missive had arrived from Varys requesting a meeting with Jon. Looking out at the army assembled before the gates, one thing was clear. Westeros was well outnumbered.

Jaime sighed and looked to Brienne. Her face mirrored his worry. _Gods help. The Mad King’s daughter has come for her throne._ They had agreed to meet at the Dragon Pit. It was a neutral enough location within the city walls and afforded ample space for each sovereign to bring their guards.

“I heard the Unsullied don’t have any cocks. I wonder what their motivation is?” Tyrion’s words were casual despite the absurdity of the statement. Neither of their wives seemed impressed by Tyrion’s statement, but Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle.

In Jaime’s attempt to suppress his laughter, a sharp pain coursed through his body. His ribs were far from healed and he had only just begun walking around the Keep and city. The healer insisted that taking walks and deep breaths were the only want to ensure infection didn’t set in.

“Do not encourage him. It isn’t funny.” Brienne refused to look to either Lannister brother but spoke commandingly to Jaime.

As they made their way towards the pit, Jaime had to stop every so often to rest. The pain in his ribs was unbearable, but he had little desire to show weakness in front of anyone. He instead feigned interest in the various architecture of nearby buildings or reconstruction efforts. Brienne saw through his act, but mercifully played along and hummed at his verbal meanderings.

Jaime had little desire to attend this meeting, but Jon insisted that each Warden be present for the meeting with Daenerys. Aside from the Wardens, Jon’s small council and Kingsguard would be in attendance.

By the time they reached the pit, everyone else had arrived. Jon smiled sympathetically at the grimace on Jaime’s face. Jaime tried to inconspicuously lean against Brienne for support, but judging by the expressions of those already seated, he was failing miserably.

Jon stood and distracted the group from Jaime’s slow approach. “Alright, we have everyone now. Lady Daenerys allow me to introduce…”

“Queen Daenerys.” A young woman spoke from beside the self-proclaimed queen who Jaime instantly recognized as the Targaryen girl. _Gods. She certainly looks like Aerys and Rhaella. Lets hope she only has her mother’s temperament._

Taking their seat next to Selwyn, Jaime curled in on himself slightly. _Seven hells. Too much walking today._

Jon smiled at the pair of women before him. The two women were flanked by Varys and a slew of Unsullied and Dothraki soldiers. “My apologies. Queen Daenerys, let me introduce you to everyone serving on my small council and the Wardens of Westeros.”

Jon began by introducing his small council. “This is Ser Brynden Tully, my Hand.” A recent change to Jon’s council was the appointment of the Blackfish. Jaime thought it an excellent choice. The Blackfish wouldn’t accept any nonsense from the nobles at court nor visiting dignitaries. He was an imposing man and a knight who Jaime idolized in his youth.

As Jon continued introducing his council, Jaime’s mind wandered to the past week’s events. When Jaime awoke, he expected the Blackfish would stop visiting as Brienne indicated he had been. Instead, Brynden became a fixture in the room. He mostly critiqued Jaime’s slow recovery, but the Blackfish’s words held little bite. It seemed more an opportunity to needle Jaime and see how much he could take.

Brynden spoke unprompted of the War of the Ninepenny Kings. The many unanswered questions that Jaime had peppered the Blackfish with during his visit to Lord Holster’s home flooded back. Jaime chuckled inwardly at the absurdity of it all.

_It’s like I’m a boy again being read bedtime stories by one of my favorite knights. I wish I had my wooden soldiers to act it all out with._

Soon Jon made his way to the Wardens. “This is my good friend and Warden of the South, Lord Samwell Tarly. To his left here is my cousin and Wardeness of the North, Lady Sansa Stark and her husband, Lord Tyrion Lannister Stark.”

Daenerys’ brows rose to her hairline. “I’m sorry, but he took her name? I was not aware of such a practice in Westeros.”

A chuckle rose from their Westerosi contingent as Tyrion stood from his seat and bowed. “Your Grace. To those of us who have lived our entire lives in Westeros, there is one thing that has been made _very_ clear. There must _always_ be a Stark in Winterfell.”

Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle at the words and he was far from alone in the sentiment. The rest of the Westerosi contingent again chuckled knowingly. Jon smiled and moved down the line. “This is Lord Selwyn Tarth. He is Warden of the East and Lord of Tarth. His daughter and heir, Lady Brienne Lannister who is wed to Ser Jaime Lannister; our Warden of the West.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere in the pit shifted. Daenerys took a step forward; her lips curling into a snarl. “This is Ser Jaime Lannister? The Kingslayer! The man who murdered my father!”

_Ah. She’s heard of me. How delightful._

“His name is Ser Jaime.” Brienne stood from her seat and glared at the woman. Shocking to Jaime was the observation that Brienne was not alone. Sansa, Selwyn, and Tyrion had stood from their seats as well.

Ignoring Brienne’s words, Daenerys took several more steps towards Jaime. Her eyes remained trained on him and she spoke to Jon without looking away from Jaime. “Here I thought we were to have a cordial meeting, nephew. Instead, you stand beside the man who murdered my father. _Your_ grandfather.”

“My grandfather, your father, was a madman. Ser Jaime protected the realm and I am grateful for it.” Jon’s voice was commanding, but Daenerys heard none of it.

“I would have his head!”

_What? No death by dragonfire?_

Jaime tried to stand from his seat with a great deal of difficulty. His body was weary and his soul equally fatigued. _Seven hells. I just want to get home to the Rock with my wench._

By the time Jaime righted himself, he was surprised to find himself staring into the backs of Selwyn and the Blackfish.

The Blackfish spoke warningly to Daenerys. “I don’t how things work across the Narrow Sea, but in Westeros a threat against an appointed Warden is a threat against the crown.”

Daenerys stood still and gawked at them. “How could you stand for this man? He killed his king!”

“Perhaps you didn’t hear me, aunt. He killed a madman. Aerys was trying to destroy this entire city with wildfire. Ser Jaime suffered enough for the act and I won’t have it any longer. I wish to make peace with you. You are the only connection I have to a father who I never met. I cannot do that if you threaten a knight, Warden, and friend to the crown.”

At Jon’s words, Daenerys’ brows furrowed in consideration. Jaime looked to the ground and took a deep breath. It still felt surreal to be revered for the act that he had previously been reviled for. To have these people stand beside and before him was overwhelming and Jaime hardly knew what to do with the rush of emotions.

Brienne’s hand moved to Jaime’s wrist, just above the gold prosthetic. Her eyes remained fixed on Daenerys, but her warmth spread through Jaime. She had been the first to know his truth. The first to believe in him. The first to trust him.

Brienne had no reason to believe him at the time. To this day, Jaime was still shocked that she had. He had given her little reason to trust him to that point. _She knew me as the Kingslayer and I fed into it. I insulted her at every turn. I tried to kill her on a bridge. Still, she believed me._

Placing his left hand over hers, Jaime took a steadying breath and met Daenerys eyes. Whatever she saw in his eyes had an effect on her. Her shoulders sagged and she looked to Jon and the others. “I’ve been away from Westeros for most of my life. I’ve had only stories from my brother to go on. You’re correct. I don’t know the truth of what my father did. I came here to break the wheel. Not to further its motion. I too would like to discuss terms of peace.”

Slowly, the Westerosi sat down. Daenerys turned to her contingent and introduced everyone. Once formalities were out of the way and Jaime breathed easier knowing he wouldn’t be food for the beasts in the sky, the meeting began.

Negotiations seemed to stretch on forever. What there was to discuss, Jaime hardly knew. _Jon is the heir. This girl has no claim. What does she have to vent about?_

Jaime ignored the proceedings and instead tried to goad Brienne into conversation. For reasons unbeknownst to Jaime, Brienne seemed interested in the proceedings. “Brienne. Look at that Dothraki over there. He’s like Tormund without the furs. See him gnawing on that bone?”

“Stop it. Pay attention.”

Like a petulant child, Jaime leaned back and sighed. “Why? This is boring. They’re pissing over an uncomfortable chair.”

Selwyn snorted at Brienne’s right side and crossed his arms.

With a huff of irritation, Brienne reprimanded her father. “Don’t encourage him.”

The older lord threw out his hands as though he made no offense. “What? He’s not wrong. Gods this is painful.”

“If I were you, I would care a bit more. They’re discussing Dragonstone. If she is given seat there, I imagine that would fall under the East. Good luck dealing with fucking dragons circling your skies and eating your livestock or worse… our people.”

Jaime watched as Selwyn’s eyes went wide. “You’ve the right of it. This is perfect!”

_Perfect? What?_

Selwyn stood abruptly and called out to Jon. “Your Grace, if I may.” Daenerys and Jon looked to him with their brows knitted in confusion.

“If I’m hearing your… aunt... correctly, she is seeking a position where she might hold more sway and ensure a Targaryen set of power under your crown. Why not name her Warden of the East? As Brienne reminded me, Dragonstone would fall under the Eastern kingdoms.”

Jon glanced to Brynden and looked back to Selwyn. “Lord Selwyn, I’ve named you Warden of the East. I would not see a man stripped of his title who has been a strong ally to me. You’ve done no wrong.”

Selwyn huffed a laugh and shrugged. “I was happy to do my duty to the crown, but I would not be insulted if for the sake of peace, you award the position to your aunt. It is not as though Tarth ever held such a seat of power before. My daughter and only heir is already married to the Warden of the West. Some might even say it is unfair having me hold a second seat of power.”

A small smile flitted across Daenerys’ face. “Truly, you wouldn’t mind abdicating the position of Warden to me?”

With the shake of his head, Selwyn looked between the pair of Targaryens. “No. Not at all. Besides, Wardens are mean to lead one of the four regions in battle to protect the crown. I saw the size of your army out there. It is your soldiers who would make up most of the East’s forces anyway. It seems that would alleviate the issue, would it not?”

Daenerys nodded to Jon who smiled and looked back to Brynden. The Blackfish moved to speak to Jon and again, Jaime watched as the young king nodded. “Yes, I think so.”

Looking back to Selwyn, Jon spoke again. “Lord Tarth, I will name you Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. I don’t believe any of the vassals would disagree. I will name my aunt Warden of the East and Lady of Dragonstone. She will be my heir to the throne should I fail to produce an heir of my own.”

Daenerys nodded in agreement; the matter seemingly settled. Jon and Daenerys flushed out other details surrounding land for the Dorthraki to settle in. They were a people who needed space for their horses and Dragonstone was simply not large enough.

Selwyn smiled excitedly at Jaime and Brienne. “Well this worked out perfectly for me. Thank the Gods Brienne was listening. Ha!’

Jaime couldn’t help but smile at his goodfather. He had as much desire to take on responsibility as Jaime did. Lord Paramount of the Stormlands seemed more his speed, but even that was not expected nor requested on Selwyn’s part. 

“Hey, Brienne. Can you find someone to give my wardenship to? I prefer Selwyn’s approach.” Jaime’s tone was teasing as he looked to the older lord and smiled mischievously.

Brienne huffed and leaned towards Jaime. “You’ll have to work with the Warden of the East. I’m certain that will be an interesting meeting.”

_Oh Gods. I had not considered that._

“Sansa will protect me.”

Unaware that Sansa had been listening in, Jaime watched as his goodsister look to him; her voice took on a teasing lilt. “Leave me out of it, brother. I’m not going to anger someone with dragons.”

Jaime leaned across Brienne and swatted Selwyn’s arm. “Goodfather, don’t be lazy. Request your status as Warden back. I have better odds of survival with you.”

“You’re on your own. I’ll be busy keeping her dragons away from my island. You two just worry about getting me an heir so that I can have someone play at Lord Paramount for me.”

_Traitors. The lot of you._

The meeting soon ended, and Daenerys’ contingent began to mingle with Jon’s. The meeting had gone far better than Jaime expected. For his part, Jaime was eager to get back to the Keep and rest. He also wanted to check in on his aunt. Genna was finally moving around and keeping food down. Just the thought of nearly losing the woman who became his second mother clawed at his heart.

“Wench. I’m tired. Can we leave now?”

Brienne smiled and spoke through gritted teeth. “The Wardeness of the East is making her way over. Play nice.”

_Seven hells. It’s the day that won’t end. Now I get to stare into the face of Aerys reborn._

The young woman came to a halt before him. She sucked in a deep breath and folded her hands together as she appraised him. “Ser Jaime. I suppose we’ll be meeting together quite a lot.

Jaime forced a smile and glanced to Brienne. “Princess Daenerys. Well… Lady Daenerys… I suppose. I imagine you have the right of it.”

Something flashed in Daenerys’ eyes that Jaime could not read. He braced himself for another torrent of curses and death wishes, but none came. “I understand you knew my brother, Rhaegar.”

Jaime nodded slowly. “I did. He was a good man. He would have made a fine king.”

A wide smile flashed across Daenerys’ face. For the first time that day, Jaime saw only Queen Rhaella in the girl. It caught him off guard and made Jaime lament that he could never do anything to better protect the queen from her own husband.

“I would like to hear of him from you sometime.”

Jaime smiled genuinely and huffed a laugh. “I didn’t know him as well as other Kingsguard such as Ser Barristan. I was quite young when I joined the Kingsguard and he didn’t notice me as much.” Daenerys’ face fell slightly at the words. “I do remember your mother well. She was a kind woman.”

Daenerys’ smile widened again. “Well then… mayhap you can share stories of her as well.”

The young queen inclined her head to Jaime and Brienne before walking back to Jon. Jaime considered her and thought mayhap he had the wrong of it. _The coin may have landed on the correct side with that one._


	42. A New Pride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fast forward a couple of years. Brienne consider how much things have changed.

Brienne followed the sound of a child’s laughter down the hallway at the Rock. It had been just over two years since the meeting in the Dragon Pit. It had been one year since the Long Night. The maester said it was likely that Brienne would walk with a limp for the rest of her days. A white walker had broken her leg in one of the many battles between the living and dead.

At the time, all Brienne could think about was never seeing her baby boy again. She would leave him motherless at the tender age of six moons. It was that thought that gave Brienne renewed strength. A feral instinct to fight and live for her babe. Before the creature could land a killing blow, she thrust Oathkeeper into its gut; shattering the white walker into a million pieces.

The white walker’s small group of wights instantly fell around them. It was hardly the end to the war, but it had been a step closer to getting to the Night King.

It was King Jon who landed the killing blow to the Night King. He and Daenerys executed most of their attacks from the sky atop the dragons, but when the time came, Jon was on the ground with the foot soldiers. For her part, Daenerys had won the respect and acceptance of Westeros.

Daenerys was a good woman and Brienne had grown found of the young Targaryen. An amenable peace had been found between Daenerys and Jaime. They would pass time between battles wherein Jaime shared stories of Dany’s mother and brother.

Daenerys seemed to live for those moments. It occurred to Brienne just how lonely the young woman must have been while growing up in exile. For some time, she had only her cruel brother as a companion.

In a way, Brienne imagined that Jaime could relate. For a much of his life, Jaime was surrounded by all things Cersei. She poisoned his ears with venom and bid Jaime do things that he otherwise would not have. Both Daenerys and Jaime were free from those demons now.

Approaching the bedroom door, Brienne peered in to see her young son, Duncan, playing excitedly with Jaime. They had all the wooden toy knights lined up on the floor in Jaime’s old room, which was now Duncan’s. Duncan squealed as Jaime dramatically reenacted a battle between the toys.

When Duncan’s eyes landed on Brienne, he clapped happily and yelled. “Mumma!” At the young boy’s words, Jaime turned to see Brienne leaning in the doorway. “Gods. You still haven’t fixed Ser Duncan’s shield.”

A wide smile stretched across Jaime’s face as Duncan ran to Briene. “Duncan, do you hear that? Mumma doesn’t appreciate my interpretation of your great-great-grandfather’s shield.”

Duncan lunged for Brienne who happily took the young boy in her arms. “Don’t let your father fill your head with nonsense. I’ll teach you all about your Tarth kin.”

Jaime made faces at Duncan as Brienne spoke. As his eyes met hers, a softness formed. “Where are the twins?”

“My father and Genna have them. They wanted to greet Tyrion and Sansa with the babes in their arms. Ridiculous.” Brienne feigned indifference, but she adored how fond her father and Genna were of the girls.

There were many babes conceived at the victory feast when the dead fell; their twin girls among them. They named the girls after the two most important women in their lives. Catelyn, who brought them together. Genna, who kept them together.

Genna and little Genna were inseparable. At times, it felt to Brienne as though she only birthed one child for how often she only had Catelyn in her arms. Much to the amusement of everyone at the Rock, little Genna even looked like Genna. Both twin girls had Lannister features. They had green eyes, soft golden curls, and golden skin.

Duncan had Jaime’s face, but Brienne’s eyes, height, and complexion. Already, little Duncan was getting a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose. Brienne marveled at how much the young boy reminded her of Galladon. When Selwyn arrived at the Rock two days prior to meet the twins, he paled at the sight. Tears welled in his eyes as he scooped up the young lad and clutched him tight.

The last time Brienne had seen her father cry was Galladon’s death. While Selwyn had seen Duncan after the babe’s birth, everything that transpired thereafter prevented a reunion between grandfather and grandson. Now that the wars were over and Tarth secure, Selwyn would be able to visit more often.

Tarth had been attacked by Euron Greyjoy’s fleet after Selwyn returned from the Long Night. It was a fierce battle and the last thing that Selwyn needed to contend with upon arriving home, but he eventually took Euron’s head in battle. The Greyjoy fleet was defeated much to the elation of Westeros.

The rogue pirate had been making his way around the continent and pillaging all the castles while everyone was away fighting death itself in the North. The Rock, much like Storm’s End and King’s Landing, had been lucky. Euron was dissuaded from attacking those strongholds due to the abundance of protection they maintained during the Long Night.

To prepare for the war with the Night King, Jon had urged any men, women, and children unable to fight to evacuate the North to Casterly Rock, King’s Landing, and Storm’s End. The plan was to use the three castles as bases for the war. As they had large ports and were close enough to the primary location of fighting at the Neck, they could easily send supplies and tend to wounded sent to them.

Sansa and Tyrion came to the Rock to lead in Jaime’s and Brienne’s absence. Sansa cared for young Duncan alongside Genna and kept everything running smoothly. Myrcella, who had become Lady of Storm’s End, happily welcomed refugees to her lands as well.

After Cersei’s death, Jon awarded Myrcella Storm’s End as was her right by birth. Jaime was uneasy about Myrcella being so far away from the Rock, but the young woman was eager to take on the new role. With the castle’s proximity to King’s Landing, it enabled Myrcella to do the work she enjoyed most; caring for the poor.

Brienne adored Myrcella. She was a sweet girl with not an ounce of cruelty in her. She had an empathy for people unlike anyone Brienne had met in life. While she was happy for Myrcella, Brienne knew that Jaime was disappointed by how far away the young woman would be. _‘Just think, Storm’s End is close to Tarth. We can visit Myrcella whenever we go east to visit Tarth.’_

Myrcella worked with Jon on a special project to help provide resources and education to the lowborn. In an ironic twist of fate, she met and married Gendry Baratheon; Robert’s only living son. Jon had legitimized Gendry after Arya made the introduction and the truth of his lineage was revealed.

The match did not surprise Brienne when she met the lad. He was raised in the slums of Flea Bottom and had quite the journey in life. The boy was friends with Arya and it was through her that Myrcella met Gendry.

There had been some initial hesitation on Gendry’s part. He did not wish to lay with a woman he thought to be his half sister despite an obvious interest in Myrcella. It was Arya who encouraged the match. “Oh Gods Gendry. You are _not_ half siblings. She is only a Baratheon in name. Everyone knows, but no one will dare say it out loud… nor can you. She is a Lannister.”

Jaime had needled Brienne about how much Gendry looked like a young Renly. “Is that the real reason you’re happy to see Myrcella at Storm’s End? Your true reason for wanting to visit.”

Brienne could only chuckle at his absurdity and ignore his false accusations. “Do you think he’s prettier than me too? Is Renly still your favorite?”

Despite the entertainment from initially playing into Jaime’s unfounded fears, Brienne kissed his forehead adoringly. “Oh Jaime. There are no men like you. Only you.”

He was quite pleased and shut up after that. The topic hadn’t come up since.

Now as they made their way downstairs to welcome Tyrion and Sansa, Brienne felt Jaime’s eyes on her. “What?”

With a slight shrug, Jaime looped his left arm around Brienne’s waist as they walked. She held Duncan firm in her arms and watched as he leaned in. “Nothing. I just missed you.”

“Missed me? I was only gone for an hour to have tea with my father.”

“Well that was too long! Duncan and I needed someone to ensure the reenactment was correct. Clearly I can’t even get the shields painted to your liking.”

Brienne smiled warmly at Jaime and shook her head. “Which battle were you doing?”

Jaime’s chest swelled as he met her eyes. “The battle at the Twins when Ser Jaime rescued the maiden fair from the evil Boltons and Littlefinger.”

“Jaime, you were there. I’m certain you had the right of it.” Brienne’s tone was light and teasing as she held Jaime’s gaze.

“No, I was distracted that day by a tall wench. I can never seem to pay attention to anything else when she’s around.”

Brienne’s stomach fluttered at the words. No matter how long she had been with Jaime and how many nights she spent in his arms, he never stopped eliciting that feeling from her. 

They stepped outside into the courtyard just in time to see the carriages with the Stark sigil making their way in. Genna and Selwyn stood among the staff; a babe in each of their arms. Moving beside them, Brienne smiled at the pair and laughed as she took in little Genna.

As usual, Genna had changed the babe out of the outfit Brienne put her in for the day. The older woman had the castle seamstress make matching outfits for her and little Genna. Unsurprisingly, that is what they wore today.

The carriage came to a stop and the door swung open. A young boy of Duncan’s age leapt out with Tyrion chasing after him. “Jaime! Come back!” Brienne chuckled at the sight of her nephew giving her goodbrother a lovely game of chase around the courtyard. 

Sansa and Brienne had been shocked to find out that they were both pregnant around the same time. The Lannister brothers were all too pleased with themselves and it became a great jape between them. 

Duncan was born just over a moon before little Jaime. Despite the circumstances that pulled Brienne from her young babe during the Long Night, she was happy knowing that Sansa was there with little Jaime to watch over Duncan.

Following Tyrion and Jaime was Sansa. She was five moons pregnant with their second and positively glowing. The sight warmed Brienne’s heart.

Making her way toward them, Sansa threw her arms out and yelled. “Where is my favorite Lannister boy!”

Jaime stepped forward immediately and threw out his arms in response. “Here I am!” Brienne snorted as Sansa pushed passed Jaime and grabbed Duncan. “There he is! Hello Dunk! Did you miss your auntie?”

Feigning insult, Jaime clutched at his chest. “You wound me! Cast aside for someone who still shits himself multiple times a day.” With a final squeeze, Sansa lowered an excited Duncan to the ground. “Go get your cousin. He’s giving your uncle a hard time.”

Brienne watched as the two tots found their way to each other. They hugged and giggled in the middle of the courtyard before falling to the ground. With a warm smile, Sansa turned to Jaime. “Alright, now my second favorite Lannister boy.”

_Yes, because I’m the favorite Lannister. Thank you very much._

Pulling Jaime into a hug, Brienne watched as Sansa gave him a good squeeze before pulling back to cup his face. “You even shaved for the occasion.”

“Brienne made me. She said that I looked altogether too homeless.”

“I like homeless Jaime best. Homeless looking Jaime saves my best friend from bear pits and Bolton men. Homeless Jaime marches an army north to save her and then back south to save King’s Landing a second time. I don’t know who this dapper man is, but I suppose he’ll suffice.”

Jaime raised a brow teasingly at Brienne. “See. Everyone likes homeless Jaime best.”

The bark of laughter from Selwyn and Genna echoed throughout the courtyard. As Sansa pulled Brienne into a tight embrace, the laughter caught her attention. Sansa’s eyes went wide in delight as she stood back from Brienne and looked to the babes.

“Here they are! Gods! They’re perfect. Which one is this?” Sansa moved before Selwyn and brushed her hand through the babe’s curls. Little Catelyn yawned contentedly in Selwyn’s arms as his chest swelled with pride. “This is Lady Catelyn.”

Tears formed in Sansa’s eyes. “Gods damnit you two. I told myself that I wouldn’t cry. I cried enough when the missive came announcing her name.”

Brienne looked at Jaime and smiled teasingly. “Sounds familiar.”

With an indignant look on his face, Jaime scoffed. “I did not cry at all.” 

Brienne still remembers when the missive came from Winterfell. Duncan was only one moon old and had yet to find sleep at night. Jaime would hardly put the babe down and Genna insisted that his coddling would only make it worse _._ “He’ll want to be held every night if you keep that up!” At her words, Jaime huffed and shook his head. “I will not let my son cry if I can make him feel better.” Genna shook her head and threw the missive at them.

“Tyrion and Sansa had the babe. Go on then… have a look.” Brienne read the missive to Jaime as he held Duncan in his arms. When she set the missive down, Brienne heard a sniffle and looked up to see Jaime trying in vain to wipe a stray tear from his eye.

Looking at Jaime now in the courtyard, she chuckled and spoke teasingly. “Yes, you did.”

“No, those were _amused_ tears. Ned Stark’s first grandbabe was named after me. Still brings a tear to my eye.”

Brienne looked to Sansa and mouthed her next words. “Cried like a babe all day.”

Making her way to Genna, Sansa bit back a laugh and smiled widely. “Well little Lady Genna. That is quite the outfit. Very becoming.” Genna’s chest swelled with pride at Sansa’s words.

Turning her attention back to Jaime, Brienne saw that he had made his way to Tyrion and the toddlers. The younger Lannister brother looked well and was also cleanshaven. Tyrion approached Brienne with a wide smile. Bending to embrace her goodbrother, Brienne felt Tyrion smile against her cheek. “Thank you for looking after him. He has never looked happier.”

Tyrion made his way down the line and eagerly took little Catelyn from Selwyn’s arms. As they made their way inside, Brienne picked up little Jaime who looked more Tully than Lannister or Stark. _Lady Catelyn would be most pleased._ Little Jaime had auburn hair and blue eyes like his mother, but according to Tyrion he had Jaime’s temperament. Pure mischief.

That night, they feasted and laughed as a large group. Their new pride of lions. The babes were brought to the nurseries so that the adults could enjoy themselves. Brienne was surprised to hear certain updates from King’s Landing. Sansa spoke eagerly of word received from Arya. “Jon is to marry Sam Tarly’s sister, Talla. A bit of an odd match, but they’ve grown close with how much Sam visits. Oh! And Daenerys is to marry Oberyn! Can you believe it? I told you there was something going on between them during the Long Night.”

Oberyn had come to join them during the Long Night. He couldn’t fight given his disfigurement, but he brought his men and offered strong military advisement. Brienne knew he was an incredibly brave man and she was hardly surprised when the Viper refused to sit quietly in Dorne while war raged north.

Soon Genna and Selwyn retired for the evening. Brienne and Sansa shared knowing looks as the Lannister brothers got a bit too into their cups. It felt as though they had been transported back a few years. The image of Tyrion and Jaime racing down the main stairwell on shields came flooding back to Brienne’s mind.

It seemed a lifetime ago that their unlikely foursome came together at the Rock. Tyrion and Sansa had been little more than a political match of Tywin’s making. Jaime had left the Kingsguard under the pretense of saving Brienne from accusation of Joffrey’s murder. Now Brienne and Sansa found themselves in true marriages to the Lannister brothers.

Brienne’s mind wandered back to the weeks following the meeting at the Dragon Pit. Rather than immediately return to the Rock, Selwyn had convinced Jaime and Brienne to come to Tarth. He claimed the island would serve Jaime and Genna well in their recovery. It was difficult to disagree. Tarth was a relaxing island with warm days and a cool nights.

What Brienne didn’t know was the secretive plans Selwyn and Jaime made. It was later revealed that during the time at the Twins, Jaime and Selwyn discussed having a vow renewal on Tarth for Jaime and Brienne. Jaime worried that their actual wedding under duress at the Rock would forever sour Brienne’s memory of their union. Jaime wanted to give Brienne something that Tywin robbed them of.

Of course, Genna was privy to the actual plan as were Tyrion and Sansa. The day after Selwyn, Jaime, Genna, and Brienne left for Tarth, Sansa and Tyrion got a on a boat to join them. It was a small ceremony at the Sept on the cliffs of Tarth. Only those closest to Jaime and Brienne were in attendance. Pod and Bronn had come over with Sansa and Tyrion, although Bronn seemed more eager to enjoy the local women.

As they renewed their vows with the setting sun behind them, Jaime had tugged Brienne close. He placed her hand on his heart and spoke for her ears only. “Its yours. It will always be yours.”


End file.
